For There You Have Been
by utopia1101
Summary: Sequel to "Eyes Turned Skyward." Strongly suggested that you read ETS first. M for language, situations, lemons I promise . OOC but not AU. Canon pairings for the most part .
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Un-beta'd. When Hannah gets back to me, I'll update w/ edits. Second chapter is finished. Will post tomorrow in all likelihood. I know this took me a while, but I got it to you as promised, and that's all that matters.**

**If you have not read ETS, go read it now. I do not review, and it did not progress like the book. You will be confused. Listen to me, dammit.**

**I don't own this.**

**For There You Have Been**

**Chapter One**

Florida is... sunny. It was a bit disorienting at first, waking up to shards of sunlight as they danced through my window, burning my retinas, walking out into the blazing wet heat of yet another sweltering summer day. Renee had been hoping that I'd want to stay. That I'd fall in love with Jacksonville and the little yellow cottage that was her and Phil's new home. That the palm trees and ocean breezes would sway me. But it was disorienting, and, after so many months spent under constant cloud cover, I felt too exposed to ever be entirely comfortable. Still, it was a wonderful idea. Spending a month of my summer break in Florida. A wonderful idea.

Renee hovered in the beginning. She buzzed around me like some needy insect, desperate to renew whatever connection she felt was severed when I moved to be with Charlie. She inserted herself into my life with a vengeance, following me everywhere, insisting on taking me shopping, trying to push a "spa day" on me. It was difficult not to snap at her, and for the first week I longed for my bedroom in Forks, for the unassuming presence of my father and the quiet of our little house next to the woods. But she backed off after a bit. She sensed that I had changed, and she changed accordingly. Renee had always been good at adapting. I'll give her that.

The one thing I will give Florida is its beaches. They are beautiful and plentiful and peaceful, even when they're over-crowded by rowdy families and flirting teenagers. That was where I spent most of my time, happily waiting out the month on my towel in the sand, a book in my hands and a bottle of water at my side. I even managed to get a bit of a tan. Well, _my_ version of a tan, anyway. In the beginning I was plagued by sunburn after sunburn. Phil began to call me "lobster-girl." But the burns started to fade and my skin was eventually left a sort of soft pinkish-tannish color. It's nice. Makes me look less sickly. I'll miss it when it fades back into my normal shade of pale.

My time with Renee was divided into beach, lunch, more beach, dinner, an hour on the phone with Angela, IM-ing with Angela and/or Jacob, a brief Mother/Daughter bonding session, and then bed. It became comfortable. I'd keep to myself all day, talk to my friends at night, deal with my mother, and then start all over again. And I needed time to myself. I've needed that for a while. Who would've thought I'd have to come to Florida to get it?

Life after Edward left was vanilla. It was nothing special. Nothing really changed. And, after a while, I stopped looking to what used to be their table during lunches. After a while, I stopped staring at the door during Biology, trying to will him through it. After a while, my heart stopped breaking when I'd pull into the parking lot to find his car wasn't there. I had formed an attachment to someone I didn't really know, understand, or even trust entirely. It had been exhilarating and life affirming and maddening and terrifying all at once. And then he left. And it was over. And so I moved on.

Angela helped me a great deal, keeping me distracted, keeping me busy. When she started dating Ben, she wasn't around quite as often, but she was always present in my day, even if it was only a text message or an IM. She was, and is, always there for me. And she's so happy now. So sickeningly, deliriously happy with her boyfriend and her life. I'm thrilled for her. And jealous. But mostly thrilled. And that's what counts.

Jacob Black. He was a surprise. After that day in the parking lot, I had thought I'd never see him again. But then he came to my house, talked to me like we'd been friends for years, and in a way it feel s like we have. It's funny how things never turn out the way you plan. When Edward exited my life, Jacob entered. And they're two completely different people who make me feel two completely different ways, but Jake's timing couldn't have been better, and he's made my life in Forks a little brighter, a little more interesting, a little fuller as a result.

We don't talk about much. We tend to just exist together. It's refreshing. I love talking to Angela, but I also love just sitting with Jake. We'll watch tv, I'll watch him work on his car, watch him try to repair his motorcycle (there was a rather large and mysterious dent in the side of it when he recovered it that day), watch him watch me. I'm tranquil with him. He puts me at ease. It's lovely.

Of course, there are problems. I've caught him staring at me, a look in his eyes that I'm not entirely comfortable with. Angela thinks it's adorable. She jokes with me about it all the time, and I know that she'd love it if I started dating him. We already go out all the time with her and Ben anyway. I think she feels guilty about snuggling up to her boyfriend in front of me, and she probably figures she'd feel better about it if I had someone to snuggle up to as well. But no. That won't work. And I've tried explaining that to her, but she persists regardless. My only hope is that Jacob will remain silent about his feelings for me. Because I do not reciprocate. And I cannot reciprocate. Edward Cullen may be gone, but I know how things can feel now. I know how being in the presence of the right person feels. And Jacob Black is not the right person.

Edward Cullen.

I was a mess when he left. It took a while. Charlie would ask what was wrong and I'd just mutely shake my head and walk away. Apparently there was some sort of emergency with Esme's family and they had to go away. Apparently Carlisle had gone on leave from the hospital. Apparently they left the house with all the furniture still inside. Their cars were rumored to still be in the garage. Their names remained on the rolls at school. Everything about them remained, but they themselves had vanished. It was all anyone could talk about for a month. But then the Mayor's granddaughter came home from college pregnant one day, and the Cullens were forgotten.

Edward Cullen.

I knew they left because of me. Because of what I'd seen. Because of what he'd let me see. That look on his face before he disappeared, the goodbye he whispered to me, it comes to me every night in my dreams. It haunts me. It follows me everywhere, the ghost of what could have been. What _should_ have been. I toyed with the idea of trying to find him for a while. I googled his name, his family, everything I could think of, but nothing came up. And then I started googling things _about_ him. Things like strength and speed and sparkling skin. But that turned up a set of results that I wasn't prepared to deal with, so I closed the window and moved on with my day.

I made a habit of watching the woods. I'd stare out of my window every night, eyes fixed on the treeline just beyond our property, fantasizing about him walking out, waving to me, smiling that amazing smile of his and asking me to come down. I'd gaze for hours sometimes. But he never came. Not that I expected him to. Only hoped. Dreamed. Prayed.

But Edward Cullen was gone and my life continued forward. I put myself out there after that, certain that my reticence had only hindered my progress with him. Determined to be ready when someone else came along, someone who made me feel like he did. I fought against my instincts and cracked my heart wide open, baring my soul to anyone who cared to ask. I quit being a shadow of myself and just started _being_. It's been nice, I must admit. Comforting. Liberating. I'm Bella Swan. Not some cheap imitation, but the real thing. And it's nice to be so certain about my identity.

And now, in Florida, with a week to go before I return to Washington and its rain and trees and chill, I wonder what the next school year will bring. I'll be a senior. I'll have to wrestle with college decisions and dates and dances and deadlines and all the cliched angst that comes with them. And, in less than two months, I'll be eighteen. An adult. Holy hell.

I don't know what will happen. I don't know how things will go. I know that when I moved to Forks, my life turned upside down. But when it righted itself, it was decidedly better. For all the turmoil and the tears, my life is so much better now. And another change is coming. A big change. I can feel it in my stomach, in my heart, in my soul. It's coming. I only hope it's for the good again. I only hope I can rise to it. I only hope.

**A/N: Once again, this has not been beta'd, so I apologize if it sucks out loud. I got out of the rhythm of writing, and it's hard to get back into the swing of things. **

**You read... now review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Once again, this is un-beta'd. Hope it isn't too abysmally unreadable. **

**And now for some apparently much-needed clarification. Edward left in ETS for a variety of reasons. I'm not going to commit to any of them at present, because why would you keep reading?, but here are some possibilities. First of all, he inadvertently exposed himself as something inhuman (sparkly skin, super strength, super speed) when he saved Bella from the motorcycle. Second of all, he was getting pretty close to Bella pretty fast. And third, remember when Bella was looking out her window and saw something out of the corner of her eye? If it was Edward, and I think I'm safe telling you that it WAS Edward watching her, would you really want an Edward who was COMFORTABLE with the fact that he was basically stalking a teenage girl? Perhaps he realized how obsessive he was becoming and left before things progressed. Again, I'm not committing to anything, but now you've crawled into my brain a bit. I hope that makes things a bit clearer. And, while we're on the subject...**

**Edward's reasons for leaving in New Moon were equally vague. Bella got hurt, he blamed himself, so he uprooted his entire family (where they were perfectly happy, btw) and ditched Bella in the woods by her house? Seriously? Were you guys OK with that? I'm getting a lot of flack for my Edward leaving, but, hey, he left before things went too far. The whole "I love you more because I'm willing to leave" means that you leave in a manner that would help the one you love, not hurt. Telling Bella it was all a lie, he didn't love her anymore, and then ditching her... this was for her own good? Fuck that. Seriously. I like mine better. I'm not saying he won't leave again, cause you know as well as I that I don't think ahead when I write (sorry, but it's true), but really... my Edward won't be such an immature prick. **

**Oh... and, by the way. After telling Bella not to go into the woods alone... Edward totally leaves Bella IN THE WOODS ALONE. Just saying.**

***cough***

**Ummm... rant complete. I don't own this. Hope I answered your questions. And for the crazy people who accused me of pairing Edward and Alice in my EPOV (Learning How to Live)... you're on crack. That is all.**

**For There You Have Been**

**Chapter Two**

"Isabella," Charlie breathed, wrapping his arms around me in the most intimate hug we'd ever shared before. "I missed you so much."

"I can see that, Dad," I laughed, giving him a quick squeeze before taking a step back and offering him a smile. "Ate a lot of pizza, did you?"

"You don't even want to know," he muttered, reaching down to grab my two suitcases and dragging them towards his cruiser. "Geez, Bells, you're coming back with more crap than you left with. Are there rocks in here or something?" he asked, hoisting the purple duffel bag that Renee had bought me to carry my new wardrobe back to Forks.

"Renee," was my only reply, and Charlie managed a knowing smile before his eyes clouded over for a moment, almost imperceptibly. He looked away for a moment, concentrating a bit too hard on unlocking the trunk and depositing my bags safely inside before turning to me with a fresh smile and ushering me towards the passenger door.

"Let's go, kid. Jacob's been pestering me about you all day."

The hour long drive home was much more peaceful than the one we had made together all those months ago. The trees lining the highway were welcome now, the gray sky not as oppressive as it had felt to me before. I was home now, and it was a nice feeling.

I released a contented sigh and turned to regard my father for a moment, smiling as I noted once more just how happy and relieved he was to have me back. His lips seemed to have been frozen in a permanent little smile since the moment I had stepped of the plane, and he was humming along to the radio, something he rarely had on while I was in the car with him. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that he had probably been concerned that I would choose to stay in Florida, choose Renee over him. He had probably been worried that my mother would try to talk me into staying (which she did, on numerous occasions), and maybe the old Bella would have wanted to stay there. Maybe the old Bella would have chosen the sun and her mother's familiar idiosyncrasies over the cloud-filtered light and quiet of Forks, but, for new Bella, for post-Edward Bella, the idea of leaving Forks is laughable at best. This is my home now. This is where I found myself, and found people who accepted me. This was it. Charlie had nothing to fear.

The drive continued in comfortable silence, and, before I knew it, we were back, pulling into the narrow driveway in front of the small two story house that I had grown so attached to since I moved here. We were back and I was home. Eagerly helping Charlie unload my overstuffed suitcases from the trunk, I practically ran into the house and up the stairs to my small bedroom, calling a thanks to my rather amused father as he dumped my duffel on the landing and left me in peace. I unpacked my laptop with haste, logging online and pouting when I found that neither Angie nor Jacob were on, before whipping out my cell and making the phone call I'd been dying to make since my plane touched down.

I dialed the number by memory, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet as the line rang once, twice, again...

"Angie," I screamed when she finally answered, "I'm home!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Update time," Angela announced, grinning as she playfully nudged Ben in the ribs before turning her attention to Jacob and I across the table. "Spill."

"Angela, I've spoken to you twice a day, every day for the past month. What am I spilling about exactly?"

"Not you, Ms. Bella," she replied, roguishly eying Jacob and giggling as he dropped his eyes to the table.

"Jacob?" I asked, smiling at Angela's behavior. "Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"I... uh..."

"Jacob has a girlfriend!" Angela sang out, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair playfully.

Jacob has a girlfriend? What?

I looked at him, watching his already reddish skin darken considerably as he blushed at Angela's announcement. A sudden lurching sensation in my stomach overtook me for a moment, and I felt my hands ball into fists under the table. What the hell?

"Well, Jake?" I prompted, giving him a pointed glance before kicking Angela under the table, my way of telling her to stop embarrassing him.

"I, uh... yeah. Well, she's not really my _girlfriend_. We've just been... uh..."

"Dating?" I suggested gently, trying to figure out the emotions that were coursing through me.

"Yeah," he agreed, relieved for the confession to be over. He stole a glance at me, his eyes still not quite meeting mine, as though trying to gauge my reaction.

"Well that's great," I declared with forced enthusiasm, plastering a smile on my face and wondering why I wasn't quite as happy for my friend as I should have been. "Do I know her?"

"I don't think so. She's from the Reservation."

"Oh. Well, would I like her?"

"Oh yeah, Bells. She's great we all love her," Angela replied for him, offering Jake a smile and nodding. "She's awesome."

"Does she have a name?"

"Sarah," Ben offered, speaking up for the first time since we arrived at the diner. "She's Leah Clearwater's cousin."

"Sarah," I repeated to myself, nodding. "Well, I'm really happy for you, Jake. I hope I can meet her sometime soon."

"Yeah. Yeah, me too."

He was still glancing at me cautiously, his eyes settling on my face long enough to read my expression before darting away again, but he gave me an awkward smile and a bit of a nod, and I took that to mean that the subject was closed for now. He had clearly been nervous about telling me. It made me wonder a bit...

"So, Bells. You're fucking tan."

I smiled at my best friend across the table, stuck my tongue out at her playfully, and, just like that, my life had returned to normal.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There were two weeks left, and then one, and then, suddenly, I was waking up on a very particular Monday morning, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and preparing myself for the first day of my last year in Forks. It was time for school again. Time to finished what I'd started. And I couldn't wait.

Angela and I had compared schedules the week before and had lucked into having quite a few classes together. Ben was in a couple with us as well. And we had run into Mike, Jessica, Lauren, and Tyler on more than one occasion over the past couple of weeks and gotten along just fine. After Edward left, Jess backed off of me, and I had my suspicions that Lauren was interested in Jacob. All in all, everything was going well. This year would be great. I'd make sure of it.

After a quick shower, I hit my hair with a blow dryer, something Renee had insisted on training me how to do over the summer. Using the technique she had drilled into me, I sculpted my usual waves into long, smooth layers and topped it all off with some goopy finishing serum when I was done. Looking into the mirror, I had to admit that my hair looked pretty amazing, but the odds of me keeping up that kind of time-consuming regimen on a daily basis were nil. Once in a while was ok, but, let's face it, I'm just not a glamorous girl.

Offering myself a satisfied nod, I headed back into my bedroom, violently attacking my closet and donning a pair of dark skinny jeans and a white v-neck top, glancing out the window and smiling to myself as I opted for a pair of black Converse low-tops over my usually requisite rain boots. It was cloudy out, but definitely wouldn't be raining today.

Makeup was a quick affair. Renee had offered obsessive instruction in that arena as well, adding to the small supply she had sent me away from Phoenix with what felt like every product known to man. Getting into the "back to school" spirit, I cheekily applied some black eyeliner and a bit of sparkly nude shadow, curling my lashes and coating them with mascara. I hadn't worn makeup since I'd gotten back, so Angela would be both surprised and thrilled, I was sure. I threw on some bronzer for good measure, trying to accentuate the bit of tan I had leftover from my trip to Jacksonville, and glossed my lips, smiling to myself as I assessed my handiwork. New Bella was out in full force today. People wouldn't know what to do with me.

With a flip of my hair, I was downstairs grabbing a Pop Tart and waving goodbye to Charlie, walking carefully to my truck and gunning it towards school. My primping had made me late and I suddenly remembered why I was so low maintenance to begin with. Still... acting girly on occasion was kind of fun.

I parked in my usual space and let the familiarity of it all wash over me. I was back in Forks, back at the school that had become a source of comfort to me. Climbing out of my truck, I waved enthusiastically at Angela as she pulled in beside me, yanking my backpack out of the cab and hoisting it onto my shoulder.

"Damn, Bells. Who'd you get all sexified for?" Angela asked, appraising me in a rather suggestive manner.

"Only you, baby," I purred, exaggeratedly swaying my hips as I walked towards her... until I lost my balance and turned my ankle, dropping my backpack with a thud. "Shit."

"Now there's the Bella I love and know," Angie laughed, closing the space between us to hand me my bag and link her arm through mine. "You ready for this, kid?"

"Apparently not," I muttered, stepping tentatively onto my abused ankle and sighing with relief when the pain I had expected didn't appear.

"Yes you are. Don't be such a whiney bitch," she chirped, smacking me lightly on the arm before practically dragging me towards the school. "You do look nice, though. Really, Bells. You look great."

"Thanks, Angie. You don't look so bad yourself."

"Well, duh," she replied, smoothing her free hand over her green dress and offering me a devious smile. "Have to keep my man interested, don't I?"

"Speaking of men," I laughed, gesturing towards a rather over-eager Ben Cheney as he rushed across the parking lot towards us, grinning broadly.

"Hey, Bella. Hey, baby."

"Benjamin," Angela intoned, releasing her hold on my arm to dip into a formal curtsy before practically jumping into his arms and capturing his lips in a rather intense kiss.

"Don't mind me," I muttered, averting my eyes uncomfortably.

"We won't," she mumbled almost inaudibly, her lips still engaged with Ben's.

I stood there awkwardly, watching my friends practically fuck in the parking lot, shifting my weight until, thankfully, the bell rang signaling the beginning of the day.

"Let's go, Angie," I said, jerking her away from her boyfriend, ignoring the rather rude names she called me as I pulled her away. "You'll see him in English."

"Bye, baby," she called over her shoulder, smiling at the rather disheveled state of his hair and the glazed expression on his face. "I did that," she remarked to me proudly, gesturing over her shoulder to Ben's retreating form.

"I know, honey. And we're all _so_ proud of you."

"Oh, fuck off," she said contentedly, smiling broadly as we began to approach our homeroom. "You're just jealous."

"He's not really my type."

That comment earned me another smack in the arm, and for the rest of the walk my best friend talked my ear off, extolling Ben's virtues and smiling dreamily to herself. It was a good start to the day. The people I loved were happy, and I was happy as well. It was with a contented sigh and a distracted mind that I wrenched the door to the Math building open, ushering Angela inside before following behind her, laughing at her story about when she first introduced Ben to her father.

If I had been paying more attention, if I had waited just a couple of seconds longer before entering the building, if I had spared a glance at the parking lot before heading inside, I might have seen a familiar glint of silver metal as it pulled smoothly into a space near my truck. I might have seen two rather distinctive figures pop out of the car and walk briskly towards the campus. I might have seen the shock of copper hair, glinting in the filtered light, the broad strength of his shoulders, covered in tight black cotton.

But I didn't look. So I didn't see. And my day began as though nothing was wrong and everything was right. My day began as it should have. And I didn't know that that change I had felt, that change that I had known was coming, that change that I had been waiting for, was upon me once again.

Edward Cullen had returned to Forks.

**A/N: Author's notes are back with a vengeance, bitches. And so is Edward. :)**

**Review, please. I can't wait to get yelled at for Bella's reaction to Jacob. And I apologize for adding an OC, but I didn't want him dating anyone we knew. Sarah's a biblical name, like most of the female names of the Quileutes, so I figured it worked.**

**Review. Review. Review. Review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm sad. I got used to the Eyes Turned Skyward review blitz. Oh well. I guess I'm back to slowly building up my readership again. For those of you who are new to my neuroses, I'm obsessed with reviews. The personal messages are lovely, but I thrive on reviews. My theory is that the more reviews I get, the more people will read me... because I only tend to read fanfics with a lot of reviews. So, there you have it. Again, I'm deeply grateful for all the personal messages, but review me, too, dammit.**

**So... Edward is back, and I'm not sure how this is going to go. Incidentally, my EPOV is somewhat stalled out. I've written the second chapter about six times, and it keeps not going well, so you'll have to be patient with me. Nothing like pimping one story in the a/n for another. If Edward and Bella don't chat it up in this chapter, please forgive. Edward ran away and Bella moved on, so I don't know how they're going to deal with each other quite yet.**

**Enough rambling. I don't own these characters, though I **_**totally**_** p0wn these characters. On with the show...**

**Chapter Three**

It's funny how normal normal can feel. The first two periods of the day blew by me as though I had never left and I fell into the same staring-off-into-space pattern that I always did, letting my mind wander as my new teachers bored me into a coma. Angela sat next to me in European History, but I was on my own in Chemistry and, thus, forced to partner with Mike Newton. Still, he only flirted with me for the first half of class, and he'd make for a more talkative table-mate than the empty space Edward Cullen had left next to me last year, so things could have been worse.

All-in-all, the first two classes were a success. It was when I walked into senior English that all hell broke loose.

I had been chatting with Angela when we came into the room, giggling and comparing teachers as she had just come from pre-calculus and I had just left chemistry. I hadn't been paying attention. I had been caught up in Angela's beyond vivid description of the new pre-calc teacher and his sweating problem. I had been laughing too hard and fiddling with the straps of my backpack. I wasn't looking around. I wasn't looking for him. I wasn't even thinking about him. Hell, I didn't even know he was back. But I felt him. His presence. I felt him before I even saw him. Before I knew where to look.

Edward Cullen.

I stopped short. I froze. Angela walked into my back, throwing some colorful words in my direction, complaining at my lack of forward motion. And then they were concerned words. And then I guess she looked around and found him, found out what had made me stop, because suddenly her hand was on my arm, warm and safe and supportive and bringing me back to reality.

"Bella," she whispered in my ear, squeezing my arm. "Bella, it's ok."

It's ok. It's ok. No. No it's not.

"Bella," she tried again, tugging on me now, trying to get me to sit down. "Isabella, the bell is going to ring. You need to move now. It's fine. You'll be fine. Let's go."

Let's go. Good idea. Let's leave. Now. Let's leave now. I turned to tell her this, turned to ask her to run with me. I spun facing her, preparing the words in my mouth, but the bell rang and the teacher cleared her throat and Angela moved both hands to my back and full-on pushed me to an open seat near the back of the room. I had no choice. It was walk or fall. I walked.

She kept one hand on my back as we moved, guiding me towards the open desk, offering me an apologetic smile after she left me there and dropped into her own seat next to mine. I looked at her a moment, quirking the corner of my mouth up in what was meant to be a gesture of understanding but ended up looking like more of a grimace. I dropped my eyes to the desk. I concentrated on the teacher's words. I would not look anywhere else. I _could_ not look anywhere else.

I didn't even know where he was sitting. I just knew he was there. He was there, here, and he was close. I could feel him. God, I could feel him near me. And I didn't know what to do. Fuck me, I didn't know what to do. Surely I could look at him. Surely it would be ok. But... but what then? If I looked, I wouldn't be able to stop, and that was not alright. So no. No looking. Look at the desk. Look at Angela. Nowhere else, Bella. Nowhere...

"Alice Cullen?" an authoritative voice called from the front of the room.

At the sound of the last name, my head tried to snap up reflexively, but I caught myself just in time. No looking up. No looking around. Dammit, Bella, you can do this.

"Here!"

"Edward Cullen?"

Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I hate this teacher. Hate her. Why call roll? Why? It's so stupid. We're here. We're all here. Leave us alone. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up shut up...

"Here."

And there it was. Oh god, there it was. That voice. That voice that had followed me, stayed with me after he'd gone. That voice that had told me goodbye. That voice that had burned itself into my brain, echoing through my dreams. That amazing voice. All bell-like and velvet and sex incarnate. That fucking voice.

This time when my head snapped up, I was powerless to control it. And then I saw him. He was in the next row, seated in front of Angela, and I was suddenly very grateful that she had steered me to this desk, because if I had sat behind him... it wasn't worth thinking about.

I looked at him. Memorized him. Stared. Gawked.

And he was more beautiful than I had remembered.

What an asshole.

His hair was... god that hair. All copper and gorgeous and practically glowing under the fluorescent lights that made the rest of us look like zombies. It was messy and amazing and all I could think about was touching it, running my fingers through it. This seemed to be my Edward Cullen default. Fuck I love his hair. My fingers twitched just looking at it. God I wanted to touch it...

Angela kicked me. Hard.

"_Isabella Swan_?" the teacher called from the front, her tone implying that it wasn't the first time she'd said it.

Shit.

"Here," I managed, licking my lips nervously and clenching my hands into fists, trying to compose myself. Trying to be normal again. Trying to...

Oh fuck. He looked at me.

I took a deep breath. I took two. I took three. I breathed for a full minute, practically meditating, schooling my expression into a sphinx-like calm, and then I looked back. I met his gaze. And the planet disappeared.

How does he _do_ that?

We locked eyes for what seemed like forever, and I felt my anger and panic and frustration melt away, shift into something less healthy, less useful. I felt my insides liquify under that gaze, felt my body go warm and buzz with electricity. His golden eyes met my brown, and god help me but I was lost. So lost. And a little too happy about it. Ok, a _lot _too happy about it.

I studied his face, taking the opportunity to try to read him now that he was looking at me, but he was as inscrutable as ever. I could sense the wall behind his eyes, the wall that I had tried so hard to break down all those months ago. His mouth was frozen in a hard line, his jaw set, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tenser than they should have been. I looked to his hands, remembering the first day that I had seen him, remembering how his beautiful fingers had been curled into angry fists when he had laid eyes on me for the first time, and couldn't help the relieved smile that crossed my lips when I found them relaxed against the desk in front of him. And he must have noticed my change of expression, because his changed as well.

For a moment, just one moment, he relaxed. For an instant, the wall behind those gold pools crumbled before me, opening into a vast beauty that made my breath hitch in my chest. For a second, the corner of his lips turned up into the painfully adorable crooked smile that I remembered so well, that I was sure would be the death of me. He released a breath that I hadn't realized he had been holding, and his shoulders lost some of their tension. His fingers twitched against the surface of the desk. He leaned very slightly towards me. It was so beautiful. It was all of the good memories and none of the bad. All of the longing I had felt towards him, all of the daydreams and fantasies and feelings came rushing back, and the relief that washed over me in that moment was palpable. Because in that moment he was the boy I knew he could be. The one I had hoped for. In that moment, he was real. It was amazing. It was... over.

Lauren Mallory, seated in front of him, turned around to pass him the class syllabus, and the moment vanished as soon as it had come. He politely thanked her before turning to present Angela hers, and proceeded to studiously pore over the sheet of paper, examining it as though it would impart upon him the answers to life's greatest mysteries. He stared at it, gripping it so tightly that the paper began to quiver, and then he flattened it against the desk, resolutely ignoring me. The spell had been broken.

I turned to Angela, completely miffed, but she had no answers for me, merely a commiserating smile and a confused shrug. I felt a piece of paper slide under my fingers, and turned just in time to watch Eric Yorkie turn back around in his seat. I looked down at my own copy of the syllabus, pretending to read it, to study it just as carefully as Edward had his. I stared at it as the teacher explained it from the front of the room, trying to look as though I was paying attention. Trying to look unaffected in case Edward glanced at me again. But it was a waste of effort. Because he never did.

Books were distributed. The first assignment was issued. Apparently we would be covering Shakespeare this semester. Ordinarily I would have been thrilled. Today I didn't give a shit. And the class wore on. If I wasn't looking at my desk, I was looking at the clock. If I wasn't looking at the clock, I was looking at Angela, but I tried not to do that too often because my gaze would invariably stray to the enigma that was sitting in front of her.

It was... god it was torture. Agony. I was lost. Totally and completely lost. All of the confidence, the happiness, the comfort I had experienced since he had left disappeared the moment I saw him again. All of my progress vanished. New Bella was replaced with a quivering ball of emotions. Confusion wracked my brain. Unbidden memories surfaced.

Edward sitting with his family in the cafeteria on my first day.

Edward and I arguing on the way to the nurse.

Edward convincing Angela to take me to the hospital.

Edward as he walked into class late.

Edward's arm under my hand during our detention, ice cold and humming with electricity.

Edward telling me he was distracted by me.

Edward telling me he thought about me.

Edward standing before me in the parking lot on that day, stock still and glittering in the sun...

Edward saying goodbye...

"Bells," Angela said softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly when I flinched in surprise. "Let's go."

I looked around. The room was empty, save for the teacher in the front, giving us both quizzical looks.

The room was empty and Edward was gone.

I rose on unsteady legs, following my friend as she led me from the classroom, numbly glancing back at the desk he had occupied just moments ago. She slowed as we left the building, falling into step beside me and snaking her arm through mine, lending me her strength, her support, waiting for me to talk as we headed for the health class that we thankfully had together.

It wasn't until we had reached the appropriate classroom and sat down again that she broke the silence, the concern evident in her voice.

"Isabella, are you alright?"

I turned to look at her, thinking for a moment about what she had just asked, about what would constitute an honest answer to her very reasonable question. I turned it over in my mind, replaying what had happened in the English room, how he had looked, how he had acted, how I had responded. I went over every memory that had resurfaced, every emotion that had awakened in his presence. I heard him say goodbye to me again, his voice as clear in my recollection as it had been the day he'd said it.

I turned to look at her, bitter tears accumulating behind my eyes, threatening to surface and overtake my face. And then I looked to the door as it opened, admitting one last student, a little later than the others.

Edward Cullen.

"No, Angela. No, I'm not."

**A/N: So... yeah. Hope you liked it. I'm going to e-mail this to Hannah, but I believe she's indisposed, so you'll be getting un-beta'd chapters until she's available. I disappeared on her for a while so no hard feelings. Just hope I haven't made any egregious plot errors or grammar faux-pas.**

**Please review. I just wrote this and am posting it immediately in supplication. Just press the button and write something. Anything. I beg of thee. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Holy-too-many-updates. I'm at Toyota getting my car serviced, and their wi-fi isn't working (bitches), so I'm doing the next best thing. This will be... well, it's not as though I haven't gone through excessive updating phases before. **

**I couldn't decide which story warranted my attention more, but since I wrote the update for **_**Learning How to Live**_** 4 hours ago (I wrote it at 5:30 in the morning during a nasty bout of insomnia... which never passed... I've now officially been awake for 24 hours), I figured Bella'd want to speak up. **

**In retrospect, I'm rather proud of my last chapter. I just re-read it, something I rarely do, and I kind of love it, actually. Hopefully this one will be just as good... though I think Bella is going to talk to Edward and I don't see that going very well. Let me know what you think? My insecurity is getting worse, so after you read please review.**

**I don't own this. If I did, I'd be buying a 2010 Prius instead of servicing a 2005 Corolla. **

**Chapter Four**

Fucking teachers and fucking roll call. It's like they get off on it. I know it's the first day and I know they're obligated to do it, but they're not going to learn our names anyway so does it really matter? It's torture. It's the rack. It's water boarding. It's bamboo shoots under your fingernails. Because they're going to call his goddamn name. I just know they are. And he's going to answer in that stupid voice of his. And I'm going to have a meltdown. All over roll call. Fuck school. I'm dropping out.

"Edward Cullen?"

"Here."

Asshole.

Still, in spite of the roll call and the fact that my savior turned tormenter was sitting a mere two desks away from me, the period passed in a moderately uneventful fashion. Angela passed me notes, keeping away from the topic of a certain copper-haired demi-god and sticking to safer, more amusing subjects, like the length of Jessica Stanley's mini-skirt... or lack thereof. She kept me in silent giggles for the bulk of the class, and the more I giggled the less I wanted to cry, and for that I was deeply grateful. Occasionally, my lip would begin to quiver or my posture would tense and she would just _know_ and that's when a new scrap of paper would appear to distract me.

Angela rules.

But then the bell rang and reality hit me. Because fourth period had just ended. And seniors have lunch after fourth period. And he was a senior and so was I. And how the fuck long am I supposed to be able to keep this up?!

"Let's go, kid," Angie intoned, linking her arm once more in mine and marching us resolutely towards the cafeteria.

Let's go. It was turning into our mantra. Let's go.

We met up with Ben along the way, and he quickly moved to my other side, snaking his arm through my free one in a surprising gesture of support. I had never spoken to him much outside of hanging-out with Angela, and his little show of loyalty to me came as a total shock. Angela beamed at him from her place on my right, and we walked into the lunchroom together, my fragile nerves buffered by the brilliant, caring, wonderful friends on either side of me.

I can do this.

I can do this.

We moved into the lunch line and Angela practically had to threaten physical violence to get me to take any food. In the interest of avoiding a scene, I grabbed an apple and a tea and was strangely reminded of those early days at school all those months ago. Those days when the trouble started. And just like that I was thinking about him again. Because unwanted memories have the uncanny ability to attach and associate themselves to everything. Because the last person you want to think about is always the first person who pops into your head. Because life sucks and then you die... and even then the suckage probably isn't over.

"So," Angela began after dropping down into her usual seat at our table, looking at me over tented fingers and quirking an eyebrow like only she can, "how's your day going, Bells?"

Ben froze, his slice of pizza halfway to his open mouth.

I sat there and looked at her for a full minute, trying to figure out if I was going to burst into tears or burst out laughing. After a heated internal debate, I chose the latter. Cause the former sucks.

"Well, Angela, it's funny you should ask me that," I began thoughtfully, picking up my apple and turning it over in my hands, examining the glowing red skin. "After giving this much thought and carefully weighing my options, I've come to a decision."

"Well?" Ben asked worriedly, wondering where this was going. Wondering if normal Bella was back or if he was about to be introduced to the crazy, hysterical Bella that Angela had told him about.

"Due to today's... developments... I've decided that I should..."

Angie and Ben both leaned forward expectantly, Angie with a smile quirking her lips and Ben with a worried frown. They were like yin and yang. It was kind of adorable.

"... buy a new stereo system for the truck."

Angela merely widened her smile at that, clearly proud of me for taking the non-quivering-mass-of-jelly role after such a turbulent morning. Once she caught the look on her boyfriend's face, though, she dissolved into hysterical laughter, dropping her head onto her arms and shaking uncontrollably. It only took me a moment to catch up to her, wrapping my arms around my torso and clutching my sides, trying to rub away the stitch that had appeared when my spastic breathing had become too much for my body. And still Ben sat, dumbfounded, looking at the two girls who now occupied a good deal of his time, and probably wondering if we'd skipped our meds this morning.

"You guys are fucking nuts," he muttered, taking an exaggerated bite of the pizza that he had neglected to await my response and shaking his head.

"Oh, baby, you love me anyway," Angela managed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek and playfully tousle his hair.

"Of course he does, Angie. You're a hot bitch," I smiled, wiping the first tears of the day that had nothing to do with Edward from my eyes and giving my best friend an appraising look.

"Damn straight," Ben chirped, his mouth full of pepperoni and cheese, as he dropped his slice and drew his arm around her shoulders.

There was more kissing then, and I suddenly became very interested in my apple again, giving them a moment before the awkward throat clearing would begin.

"Hey, guys, did you see who's back?"

Oh, hell. I forgot about the people we sit with. Fucking Jessica Stanley and her fucking mouth.

"You mean the Cullens?" Mike Newton asked, sitting down next to Ben as Jess took a seat next to me.

"Mhmmm."

"I wonder why they're back?"

"I dunno. I mean, doctor daddy only took a leave of absence. Remember?"

"Did he? I don't remember that."

"He did," Jess nodded knowingly, looking around the room for a moment before muttering, almost to herself, "I wonder where they are?"

"Who?" Lauren Mallory asked, practically dragging Tyler behind her as she arranged herself demurely next to Jessica.

"The Cullens," Mike answered, shoving a handful of fries in his mouth.

"Oh yeah. I think _he's_ in the parking lot. I don't know where _she_ is," Lauren supplied, perking up once everyone's attention turned to her at this new piece of information.

"The parking lot? Why's Edward Cullen in the parking lot?" Jess asked.

"I dunno. I saw him sitting in his car when we were coming back."

"Coming back from _what_?"

"Oh... um... Tyler was just, ah... um... he was _helping_ me with something. In his van," Lauren rushed, seemingly torn between proud and embarrassed. But he sluttish confession had served a purpose, relocating Jessica's inquiries from one piece of gossip to a newer, juicier, fresher one. No more Cullen talk. For now.

I brought my hands under the table, rubbing them up and down my thighs, trying to think. Or not think. The whole sitting in a stupor thing wasn't working for me, though. And then Angela caught my eye and leaned in, whispering the best and worst advice she's ever given me.

"If he's alone, I think you should go talk to him."

And, so help me god, my jaw detached itself from my skull and landed somewhere under the table.

"Ben might have a point, Angie. You're fucking insane."

She gave me a look. Angela has a series of looks, all reserved for me and all with different meanings. And this one was her shut-your-mouth-and-listen-to-what-I'm-saying-because-you-know-I'm-right-even-though-it-makes-you-uncomfortable look. Yeah. It's a long look.

"Isabella Swan, I know you're having a bad day and I know you're worried it's just going to get worse. I know that you're within five minutes of losing your sanity and ripping your hair out, and I know that you're torn between knocking that boy down and kissing him senseless and backing over him with your truck, but if you don't talk to him soon, you're going to spontaneously combust, and, dammit, Bells, fire doesn't match your outfit."

She sat back, looking at me smugly and crossing her arms, daring me to tell her she was wrong. And she wasn't. Well, she was, but she wasn't. She was... fuck it. It was too scary. I wasn't going to talk to him. Today or ever again.

I shook my head, my eyes trained on the table, drawing my lower lip between my teeth and biting it. Hard.

And then there was a flurry of motion next to me and my backpack was being thrust rudely into my arms and I was being dragged up by my shoulders and hauled towards the door.

"Excuse Bella and me for a moment, guys," Angela called over her shoulder to our rather stunned table. "We need to have a meeting."

And then we were out the doors and outside and she spun me around and backed me into the wall, jamming her finger into my chest and shooting daggers through her eyes.

"Now you listen to me, Swan," she barked, glaring at me. I had never seen Angela mad or frustrated before. I'm not gonna lie. It's a little bit terrifying. "You are not this person. Maybe you used to be, but you're not now. Who are you and what did you do with my best friend? Huh? Cause I'd like to talk to _her_. This... this coward standing in front of me isn't you, Bella. It's not you. Now, I love you like a sister. Hell, I love you _more_ than I'd love a sister. But I will not sit next to you and hold your hand and pat you on the back while you take the easy way out. You knew that boy for a week. A fucking _week_. And I understand how you felt about him, and I understand how confusing it was, and I understand that _something_ happened that day that he said goodbye that you're never going to tell me about and I realize that it's fucking you up inside. But he's _alone_ right now and, if you're every going to address this, now is as good a time as any to do it. There are three classes left today and you don't know how many of them he'll be in. Do you really want this to continue? This terror? Man up, Bella. Go talk to him. Get some answers. Knowing can't feel nearly as bad as not knowing, can it?"

And she stood there, breathing heavily, moving her hands to my shoulders and forcing me to meet her eyes. She shook me gently. Once. Twice.

"You can _do_ this, Bella," she said in a softer tone. "And you'll be better for it. Because even if it sucks. Even if it's the worst feeling on earth and your heart breaks, you still did it. You were the brave one. You made the first move. You were the bigger person, Bells. That's what you are. You're the bigger person."

And I looked at her, nodding, understanding, but not wanting to move. Because listening to her yell at me was one thing. Agreeing with her was one thing. But walking away, walking towards potential heartbreak and humiliation on _purpose_. You'd have to be a masochist. I'd have to be a masochist.

Angie ran her hands through my hair, smoothing it for me, arranging it on my shoulders, and produced some lip gloss from her bag, applying it to my startled lips before I could even utter the first word of protest.

"You're beautiful. And amazing. And you'll be great. Really, Bells. Now go kick his ass."

And with a last squeeze of my shoulders and a pat on my back, she shoved me towards the path that led to the student lot. And I walked. And walked. And walked. And the lot grew nearer. And I could see the silver Volvo. And, yes, I could see a figure sitting inside it, growing larger and clearer with every step. He was sitting in the driver's seat, his head leaned back against the gray leather headrest, his eyes closed. His lips were moving ever so slightly. He was either singing or talking to himself.

And then I was standing in front of the car, looking right at him, and his eyes were still closed and he was so relaxed and fuck if he wasn't more amazing when he was relaxed. And I didn't want to take that from him. And my feet moved to turn around and walk me back to the cafeteria, but the disappointment I would inevitably see in my best friend's eyes made me pause. Made me stay where I was. And I walked to the passenger door. And it looked unlocked. So I opened it. And I dropped down into the seat before he said a word. Before I could lose my nerve. And his hands twitched where they rested in his lap and his lips moved ever-so-slowly and his eyes stayed closed, and I closed the door, closing myself into a rather confined space with the one person on earth I was afraid of above all others.

And he didn't move for a moment. Didn't acknowledge that the door to his car had been opened and someone had gotten in without any invitation. And I wondered if he'd thought I was Alice. I wondered if this was a mistake. And then...

"Isabella Marie Swan."

He said my name as though he had chosen it for me himself. He said my name as though he was the first person to _ever_ say it. He pronounced every syllable with care, and it rolled of his tongue like silk across velvet. And then he said something else. Something impossible. Something I had been hoping for and terrified of. Three simple words. Stupid, really, but with so much promise. So much potential. So much...

"I missed you."

**A/N: This isn't that long but I'm ending it there. Took a total turn. I'm kind of happy about it and kind of worried I just screwed myself. But here you go. I'm still at Toyota and they're still dicking around with my car, so I think I'm going to crawl into Edward's head for a bit. I'll see you over at **_**Learning How to Live**_** in a few hours or so.**

**Review, please. They make me write faster.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Snark is sooo much more fun to write lately than angst. Anyway, here it is... Bella and Edward post-Volvo bombshell. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to super-Hannah for getting this back to me in 36 minutes. **

**Not in a chatty mood at present... so, have a read. I don't own the characters.**

**Chapter Five**

I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.

Fuck me. What do I do? What do I say? What am I doing? Why am I here? I can't handle this. I can't do this. And he's so close to me. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. So close. And god he smells good. The car smells like him. It's like I'm wrapped up in him, in his scent. He's everywhere. This is his turf, his playground. And that makes this a very bad idea.

"You missed me."

My tone was flat and made it clear that I was not asking him a question. It was a statement. It was a dare. Take the dare, Edward. Make this worth it. Please, Edward. Please.

He was quiet for a while and I began to panic, bringing my fingers up to twirl my hair, chewing idly on my lower lip, scanning the parking lot for witnesses to what would surely be my humiliation. He was quiet for so damn long, and he didn't move. And his eyes stayed closed. And if it wasn't for the occasional rise and fall of his chest, I would have thought he was dead. And who can keep quiet for this long. How is he _doing_ this? Do _something_, damn you!

"Edward--"

" Yes, Bella," he breathed, opening his eyes finally and turning his face ever so slightly so that he could read my expression. My reaction to him. But now that he could see my eyes, I could see his, and the walls were down again and my heart took off at a gallop, threatening to break through my ribcage and propel me towards him. "I missed you. So much. So very much."

He looked at me. I looked at him. And he leaned towards me. Just a bit. It was almost imperceptible, but my brain clocked everything he did, saving it for future review, and, dammit, he leaned towards me. And what did that mean? And it's so damn hot in here. Oh, god. I'm not ready for this. What did Angela get me in to? I need out. _Out_.

I sat up suddenly, but he didn't even flinch, merely followed me with his eyes as I pried the door open and leaped out of his car, leaning heavily against the door as I closed it behind me and dropping my face into my hands, trying to breathe, trying to think.

Angela's pep talk popped into my head and I realized that this _was_ an opportunity. This was a major opportunity and I couldn't waste it, I _shouldn't_ waste it. But there was no way I was getting back into that car. He had been too close and he had smelled too good and those eyes and that hair and watching his mouth as he said my name and _fuck_, Swan, _stop it. _

I walked around his car quickly, wrenching the driver's side door open and standing to the side, ushering him out. He regarded me with a faint smile and a confused expression.

"Am I going somewhere?" he asked quietly, his tone faintly mocking.

"_We're_ going for a walk," I replied, folding my arms over my chest and raising my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to get out. To follow me. To let me control this. Because I needed to, dammit. This was my life, my home, my school, and he can't keep making me feel these things. It isn't fair.

He nodded once, his eyes never leaving mine, and rose gracefully from the low seat, stretching to his full height in front of me. I had forgotten how tall he was, how he could tuck me under his chin if he wanted to, and then I thought about how perfectly I would fit there, nuzzling into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around me... and I'm_ doing _it again. _Stop._

"Where to, Bella?" he asked, motioning for me to lead him somewhere. Good. He understood that bit at least.

"I seem to remember you like hiking," I replied flatly. "We're going to take a walk in the woods."

"Lunch is over in ten minutes. Less. You'll be late for class."

"Class can wait. This can't."

"As you wish."

Accommodating bastard.

We walked in silence after that, crossing the parking lot that had become the beginning of the end for us. If he had bad memories of it, he didn't reveal them, simply following a step behind me, his cool gaze directed nowhere in particular. He was a picture of grace and poise and elegance and all that was cool and enviable and Angela had been right because I wanted to pounce on him and claim his lips with my own at the same time that I wanted to beat him senseless for making me feel these ridiculous urges. But we made it to the woods without any assault, and that's a plus, I suppose.

He led the way once we made it into the trees, guiding me in a few yards until we reached a small area that had obviously been cleared for use as a fire circle. There was a round dirt pit in the middle, and the radius of the space was bordered by logs of different sizes. I let him choose his seat first, and then walked to my own, taking care to sit across from him rather than next to him. Next to him seemed to get me in trouble. Proximity made it difficult to think.

"So, Bella--"

"Stop calling me that," I said suddenly, surprised by the quaver that ran through my voice. Surprised by my outburst. Judging by the look on his face, I'd say he was pretty damn surprised as well.

"Calling you what?" he asked politely.

"'Bella.' Stop calling me 'Bella.'"

He furrowed his brow, trying to understand, and for a moment all I could think about was smoothing his forehead with the tips of my fingers, kissing his confusion away. And I am so not good at this detachment thing. And all that time apart appears to have made me want him even more.

"That's what Angie calls me. Angie and Ben and Jake. Because they're my friends and they love me. They care about me. They _know_ me. And so they can call me that. That name is special to me. And I can't hear you use it right now. You don't get to use it yet."

"Yet?" he asked, his expression unreadable.

"If you don't screw things up again," I replied, turning away from his intense stare, looking at the trees, the rocks, the grass... anything but those eyes.

"I screwed things up before, then?" he asked, genuinely flummoxed.

And there was the answer to one of my questions. He hadn't known. He hadn't known how much it had hurt when he'd said goodbye to me. And some of my anger receded a bit. Because, really, how _could _he have known? I hadn't said anything. I'd just watched him go. And maybe some of my aggression was a bit misplaced...

"You just _left,_" I blurted, trying to be mad, trying to hate him. Because maybe if I hate him I won't want to kiss him.

"Yes, Isabella, I did," he intoned, pronouncing my full name with as much care as he had before. Maybe telling him to address me more formally was a bad idea. "And I think we probably need to talk about what happened that day. But first I must say that I do not understand why it would bother you so much that I left. And I do not understand why you sought me out today. I would like you to help me understand. And then I will try to help _you_ understand."

He spoke the words slowly, calmly. And the logic was there. Because if he didn't get me then there was no other conversation to have. And he needed to get it. But that would mean I'd have to tell him things... things I wasn't comfortable with. Because it _had_ only been a week and we'd only talked a few times and if I was going to explain why I'd been so upset about his departure, I was going to have to explain what that week had meant to me. What _he _had meant to me. What he _continued_ to mean to me.

"That's fair," I replied slowly, nodding once, pulling my lower lip between my teeth. His eyes flickered to my mouth as I did it. I saw them. He was looking at my mouth. Dear lord.

We just stared at each other for a moment. Him at my lips and me at his eyes watching my lips. I flicked my tongue out, moistening them, and saw him react physically. And this was amazing. I felt like I had power over him. Like he wanted me. And that gave me the confidence to continue.

"What don't you understand, Edward? Ask me questions and I will answer them."

There. That sounded like I was willing to make an effort but I wasn't giving too much away up front. Good job, Swan. Nice work.

"How do you feel about me?"

He used the sexy voice again and fuck me but this was the worst plan I've ever had. Probably the worst plan in the history of the world. Worse than making him call me "Isabella." I left myself open for it. I gave him an in and he took it.

Asshole.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, trying to buy time, trying to think fast, but it was just so _hard_ to think around him when he talked like that and ran his hands through his hair like he was doing right now.

"How do you feel about me?" he persisted, his eyes searching mine.

"I... I like you, Edward. I guess. I mean, you're a nice guy..."

I was sputtering like a jackass, treading water in the middle of the ocean without a rescue boat in sight. I looked to him desperately, hoping that that was enough, but I could see in his eyes that it wasn't, and, finally, it was time for Bella Swan to do what she had to, regardless of the consequences. If he really wanted to understand then I would _make_ him understand.

"Look, Cullen," I began, using his surname in an effort to distance myself from the embarrassment that was inevitably going to follow this speech. "We had this talk in detention that one day. I think about you. A lot. And that means something, I guess. I thought about you after you left. And it _hurt_ when you left. You just said goodbye and that was it. No explanation. No keep in touch. _Nothing_. You _saved my life_, Edward, and then you just vanished. And I couldn't tell anyone. I didn't tell anyone what really happened. I mean, Jacob crashed his bike that day, and he doesn't even know about you. But you make me feel these things. And I don't want to. I really don't want to. Because the warm fuzzies only stay for so long and then you're left with harsh reality and I don't want that for me. I don't want to get hurt. And I hate you because you're going to hurt me. You did it already. More than once. It was one week, but you kept pulling me towards you and then pushing me away and it made me dizzy and confused and _sad_ and I don't want that for myself. So, as amazing as you are-- as incredible and intelligent and beautiful and perfect and... and..." oops... hadn't meant to say that last bit. "What I mean to say is, even though you're you, and you intrigue me, I don't want to be put into that situation ever again. So you need to choose, Cullen. One way or the other. We're friends or we don't acknowledge each other's existence. Because you can't have it both ways. And neither can I."

I rose, panting from my little monologue, and took a few steps back, breaking the circle that we were seated in. I felt foolish and exposed and... lighter. No matter what he said now, at least I knew that I had spoken my peace. At least my bit was finished. All I had left to do now was listen. Listen and not fall apart. And after stating my case to him, listening didn't seem like such a scary thing anymore.

His eyes followed me as I walked away. Though my back was turned, I could feel them burning into me, tracking my movements. He was silent and still and offered me no expression whatsoever. I was beginning to learn that this was typical Edward behavior.

Exasperated by his total lack of reaction, I released a heavy sigh and ran my hands through my hair, backing myself up to a tree and dropping unceremoniously down onto the ground at the base of it, legs crossed Indian style. I looked up at him, waiting, but still he gave me nothing, and so I began to fidget, idly ripping up blades of grass, playing with stray bits of tree bark, keeping my hands busy as my mind raced.

My distracted exploration of the forest floor around me yielded a small, yellow wildflower, and I examined it closely, checking it for insects, before plucking it from the ground and tucking it into my hair, behind my ear. And it was then that I heard him gasp, just a sharp intake of breath, but it was more noise than he'd made since before I had begun my little speech, and I looked up at him, startled, curious about his reaction.

"Isabella," he breathed, his eyes as wide as saucers and full of some emotion that I couldn't begin to comprehend or label. "Bella."

He rose, his grace turning the simple movement into an elegant dance, and he approached me slowly, his eyes trained upon my face, never wavering. The intensity in those golden orbs was astonishing, and I found myself transfixed, hypontized. There was a depth there that I had never seen before. I felt as though I could drown in those eyes, and realized that I would be more than happy to do so.

"There are things about me, Bella. Things that I'm sure you noticed on that day. Things that are..." he seemed at a loss for words and I hastily supplied the word that best described him.

"Different?"

"Yes, Bella. You could say that. Different," he repeated, allowing himself a private, bitter smile before continuing. "There are things about me that are... different, and some of those things I cannot share with you. Some of those things you could never know about. And you must understand that. If you truly wish to be my... friend...," his eyes sparked at the word, his mouth struggling to force it out, and I found myself confused for a moment, "then you must realize what you're getting into. This is who I am, Bella, and I cannot change it."

"I don't want you to," I whispered, tentatively reaching towards him, placing a gentle hand on his glacial shoulder. "I just want _you_. Whoever that is. Just be _you_. Nothing more."

And he leaned closer then, licking his lips and closing his eyes, inching forward until his cool forehead rested against mine. And a fire that I had never experienced before erupted across my skin, the flames licking out to warm my body, to spark my soul. There, in the middle of the forest, with the barest amount of this boy's skin touching mine, I felt more alive than I ever had before. And my heart soared. Because he had touched me first.

We sat like that for an indeterminate amount of time. It could have been minutes, hours, days, weeks. It didn't matter as long as he was so close to me. As long as he was offering himself to me. As long as he was mine to get to know.

The world around us was silent, save for our labored breathing, and it felt right that way. Because, in that moment, we were the only two people that mattered. And I reveled in it.

A voice in the back of my mind reminded me that we had not declared love, not declared any romantic intentions. We had merely solidified a friendship. But I told that voice to shut up. Because I had never been so drawn to anyone or anything before, and who was I to fight nature? I'd take him any way I could get him. And that was that.

"I'm no good for you, Bella," he whispered after an age, his cool breath washing over my facing, sending delicious tingles up and down my spine. "I'll never be good for you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

And he stood then, breaking our contact slowly as though easing himself back into life on his own, reaching down once he was standing and offering me his hand, helping me to my feet. And we walked back to the parking lot, side by side but studiously not touching, back to the school, back to reality, stopping when we reached the sidewalk that would take us in separate directions and looking at eachother one last time before the spell was broken.

He nodded to me, his eyes upon mine, silently bidding me farewell, and I returned the gesture with a nod of my own, a sad smile dancing across my lips. And I turned away first, my feet slowly taking me away from him, a dull ache emanating through my chest when I realized that this would probably be the last time I saw him today. And then I stopped.

"Edward," I called, spinning around, unsurprised to see him standing where I had left him. "We still have a lot to talk about. There's a lot that needs to be said. I'm still very confused about whatever this is and I think you are, too. But I thought you should know... I missed you, too."

**A/N: I'd love to know where everyone thinks they should go from here. So many of you read things into this that I wouldn't have imagined otherwise, find new twists in my words, so I'm curious about how you think they should progress. But there you have it.**

**I have a rather long week ahead of me, new school orientation and moving and whatnot, and would be deeply grateful if I had an inbox full of reviews to come home to every night. So much healthier than tequila.**

**Green button, bitches. You know you want to.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is a quickie, but a necessary transition. Thanks to Hannah for getting it back to me all speedy-like. Much love to my homegirls who regularly review. Ya'll are the reason I waste my time with this tripe. To the rest of you, who read and DON'T review... well, I won't say it. Cause that'd be bitchy. But get off your ass and review already, dammit. **

**Not mine. Yours.**

**Chapter Six**

As it turns out, teachers really don't like it when you walk into class thirty minutes late. It was only photography, and Angela had covered for me by saying I had spilled something on myself at lunch and had to go home and change, but Mr. Jacobson glared at me anyway, scowling furiously until I reached my seat. Still, Edward Cullen was worth it.

"How'd it go?" Angela asked quietly, leaning towards me across the aisle.

"Hard to say," I replied after a moment.

"Did you kill him?"

"No."

"Did you fuck him?"

I blushed furiously.

"No."

"Well, then what did you do?" she insisted.

"We... talked. Kind of. Really, we didn't accomplish much. Just that we're 'friends' now. I guess... I dunno. I got distracted. It's hard for me to look at him and concentrate at the same time."

"Should've asked him to take his shirt off," she suggested with a wink and a leer.

"Yeah. I don't think that would have helped, but I'll try to remember for next time."

Mr. Jacobson caught sight of us whispering in the back and cleared his throat loudly, shooting us a threatening look. No more talking. Angie and I nodded back at the teacher mutely, staring straight ahead for the remainder of the class.

"You want to come over after school?" I asked her as we walked out of the building at the end of the period.

"I'm helping Ben with the newspaper today," she replied apologetically. "I'll call you after, though. I expect a detailed account of what happened between you guys."

"Like you could stop me from telling you everything anyway," I laughed, waving goodbye as she headed off for her last class and I to mine.

Pre-calc was, well, pre-calc. Not the best way to end my day, but certainly vastly superior to last year's gym class. I sat next to Eric Yorkie and listened politely to stories of summer at his Uncle's house in Seattle until I noted, with mild interest, that Alice Cullen had chosen the desk next to mine. I had never really paid much attention to her before, choosing to fixate on Edward rather than considering his family. Besides, his older brother had looked so intimidating. Alice, however, didn't look remotely scary, and so I turned to her when she sat, offering her a polite smile and a nod, acknowledging her presence next to me.

"I'm Isabella," I offered on impulse when she smiled back.

"Alice Cullen," she replied enthusiastically, widening her smile to toothpaste commercial proportions and offering me her hand. "We never got to meet last year."

I took her hand and shook it, a bit surprised at the chill of her skin but trying not to show any reaction. Really, she was Edward's sister, so the similarity in body temperature shouldn't have come as that much of a shock. Still...

"You're right. We didn't," I responded, surprised by her comment, unsure how I felt about it.

"Sorry about that," she said, her expression sympathetic for some reason. "We really wanted to meet you, but--" She cut herself off there, covering her mouth in a manner that suggested she'd said something she shouldn't have.

I was about to ask her what she'd meant, but class began and I didn't get the opportunity to talk to her after that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So, Bells how was your first day as a senior?" Charlie asked conversationally between mouthfuls of fried chicken at dinner.

"Spectacular," was my dry response. He had been concentrating on his plate so he missed the eye roll, but it was definitely there.

"That's good."

Silence.

God bless Charlie and his simplicity.

Renee was not so simple. Her first day inquisition began immediately after I finished washing the dishes and continued for a good hour, nearly killing the battery in my cell phone and making my jaw ache from the prolonged chatter. I described my outfit, my hairstyle (she was thrilled), my makeup job (equally thrilled), my classes, my teachers, every clever interaction between Angie and me (minus the profanity and innuendo, of course), and, finally, if I thought I'd _met _ anyone. She's asked me that question every year at this time, with the same hopeful smile in her voice. Every year I've answered in the negative, and, while my answer to this year's question was the same as it always had been, it did mark the first time I'd ever lied about it. Because I _had_ met someone. And his name was Edward Cullen.

After ending my little chat with Renee, I tackled about an hour's worth of math homework, followed by my English reading, followed by a chapter outline for history. It was going on 11 o'clock by the time I was finished, and my eyes were blurring and my neck was killing me from hunching over my desk. Sighing at the fact that I was keeping the hours of my 80-year-old grandmother, I grabbed my much-abused cell and sent Angie a quick text asking if she'd like to meet before school tomorrow and talk, since I was _way_ too tired to do so now. She agreed, of course, supportive superhero that she is, offering to bring the coffee if I'd bring the donuts, and I changed for bed, glancing out my window for a moment to study the trees outside.

It had become my nightly ritual, though I didn't know why. My gaze was always drawn there, though. It was the first place I looked in the morning and the last place at night. And, every day, without fail, for some reason that I couldn't comprehend, I'd think I saw something. Just out of the corner of my eye. Just beyond my peripheral vision. Some sort of flicker of motion. But I'd turn my head, seeking out the disturbance along the forest's edge. And it would be gone.

Tonight was no exception. I stretched languidly, grimacing as I listened to my spine popping, working out the tension that had accumulated in my body over the stress of the day, eyeing the trees with my usual fascination. It was dark and shadowy outside, with just a sliver of a moon and thick, black clouds obscuring the stars above. A typical night in Forks. A typical night. As ever, something moved outside. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know if it was anything. But it moved, just outside of my eye line, and I jerked my head towards it, trying to catch it, trying to figure out what it was. The clouds broke for a moment, bathing the treetops in weak moonlight, and I squinted, craning my neck, trying to see... but it was gone. Gone in a barely visible blur of colors as it zipped into the trees. An animal. It had to be.

I climbed into bed, curling up on my side and drawing the covers over me, burrowing into their warmth. It had been a long day. And who knows what tomorrow would bring.

Eyes closing, consciousness drifting away, my last thought of the day brought me back to that line of trees just beyond my house. Back to that bit of motion that fascinated me so. That faint streak of color as it raced back into the cover of the woods. It had never occurred to me to fear it. I assumed it was some animal. Never distinguishable but always there. And as I replayed the memory, concentrating on the movement, trying to slow it down, I was able to pinpoint one detail before sleep took hold of me.

A shock of unruly copper hair.

**A/N: You read it. Now review it. Hit the button.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I was going to post this last night, but I chose sleep instead. So now you get it hella early in the morning because... I move today!!! I will be spending the entire day marshaling all of my earthly possessions up three flights of stairs, and willing myself not to crack and hire some nice strong men to do it for me at the last minute. I can do this, dammit. Even if I won't be able to life my arms for a month... which I won't.**

**Thanks, Hannah, for being your usual speedy self. **

**So, read up. It doesn't belong to me. But I have three cars full of stuff that does, and a bunch more going into storage...**

**Chapter Seven**

"So 'friends', huh?" Angela asked between bites of her glazed doughnut, her eyes dancing.

We'd met at one of the small pavilions that sat behind the school, choosing one of the less cobweb encrusted picnic tables to carry on what would inevitably be a rather uncomfortable conversation.

"Friends," I agreed, nodding.

"That's nice."

We sat in silence for a bit after that, each lost in our own worlds. Angie had listened attentively, as always, to my story of my conversation with Edward, asking fewer questions than usual and idly sipping coffee at a rate that would have had me twitching manically by now.

"Do _you_ think it's nice, Bella? Is it what you wanted?" she asked after an age, her eyes focused concernedly on my face.

"I... I don't know anymore. I mean, it was my suggestion. It's better than nothing. He's just so... ugh. So fucking cryptic. So mysterious and guarded and serious and pragmatic and pensive and..."

"Intriguing?"

"Intriguing. _Too_ intriguing. And I just don't know what to do, Angela, because this isn't _me_. I'm not this person. I haven't been this person since he left and I thought it was over, dammit, but it's not. He just brings out the worst in me. I don't like feeling these things. Maybe we shouldn't even be friends. Maybe I should stay away from him."

"Is that what you want?" she asked quietly. She knew the answer already. So did I. It was a foregone conclusion.

"No."

More silence.

"Isabella," Angela began, her tone gentle, "have you ever stopped to think that maybe this _is_ you? Maybe he makes you feel the way you're _supposed_ to feel?"

She looked at me and I looked at her, my expression unreadable. Because no. No I hadn't.

"I mean, let's try dividing your life into two categories: feelings when you're around Edward, and feelings when you're not."

I nodded.

"So, first of all, how do you feel when you're around him?"

I thought for a moment.

"Nervous," I blurted. "Excited, scared, tense..."

"There aren't any good feelings?" she prodded.

I thought again.

"Yes," I grudgingly admitted. "He has this uncanny ability to make me feel... I don't know how to put it. _Alive_. But it's not that. It's so much more than that. My stomach erupts into butterflies and my body gets warm and my heart races and... I don't know. It's incredible. It's something I've never felt before. Every time he's near me, I have to stop myself from reaching out, touching him, running my hands over any piece of him I can get. And that's not a _normal_ compulsion for me. That's not a normal compulsion _period,_" I concluded emphatically, slamming my hand down on the table between us.

"And when he's _not_ around?" Angela asked.

"Everything's fine," I shrugged. "Normal."

"But, Bella, do you want to go through life feeling _normal_ every day?"

"Of course I do. Normal's what everyone's supposed to want. Normal's great," I argued.

"Normal's _boring_, Isabella. And normal for _you_ is safe. Normal for _you_ is doing what you're doing now. And that's no way for you to live your life. Fuck, that's no way for _anyone_ to live their life," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow at me, daring me to question her. Which I promptly did.

"And how exactly am I living my life, Angela? Huh? What am I doing that's so horrible?"

"You're avoiding anything and everything that feels like a risk. You're terrified of rocking the boat. And it doesn't make any sense because you don't seem like a person who would do that. You don't _need_ to do that. You're an amazing person, Bells. You're smart and funny as hell and gorgeous and interesting and there's no reason not to show people that. Do you have any idea how _difficult_ it was to talk to you in the beginning? How long it took for you to _really_ open up to me?"

"That's bullshit and you know it," I interrupted, leaning towards her across the table. "I was confiding in you from day one. Don't even pretend that I've ever hidden _anything_ from you."

"Oh you don't want to go there, Isabella Swan."

"Try me," I challenged.

"Certainly. What happened in the parking lot that day, hmmm? What _really_ happened when Edward said goodbye? What made you curl up into that cozy little ball of self-misery and wallow and sulk until it practically took the jaws-of-fucking-life to get you off your ass and out of your house?"

"You _know_ I can't tell you that!" I yelled, standing up and walking away from the table, approaching the edge of the shelter but avoiding stepping outside. Not to be deterred, Angela followed suit.

"You're right, Bells. I do know that. For whatever reason, you don't want to tell me what happened and, you know what? Fine. If you can't tell me, then fine. But don't fool yourself into thinking that we tell each other everything. And do _not_ for one _minute_ think that you were 'confiding in me from day one.' It took for-fucking-ever for you to open up about _anything_ to me."

"But I told you all about _him_! Don't you get it? I told you _everything_ about him. What the fuck do you call that?"

"I call that being convenient. I was convenient for you, Bella. I was the first person here who didn't treat you like a sideshow, and you latched on to me."

I spun to look at her, my chest heaving. Was that what she thought? Was that _really _ what she thought?

"Angie," I said quietly, my voice laced with emotion. "Angie, you can't really think that."

She held up her hand, silencing me, before moving her other hand to my shoulder.

"Bells, look," she began, willing my eyes to meet hers, "when you first moved here, I'm not gonna lie, I resented our relationship a little bit. Friendships are about give and take and frankly, sweetie, you took a lot. A whole lot. And I was upset about it. It hurt my feelings a bit. But after he left, I began to understand you a little bit more. And I know now that you needed me. I know now that you really didn't know what you were doing. And I know that you're not that person anymore. So it's fine."

She paused, taking in my expression, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Really, Isabella, it's fine now. But you need to understand that you're essentially still that person. You're not that person with me anymore, and I'm grateful for that. I'm glad that you trust me enough to show me who you really are. But, with everyone else, you're still that girl. You're like a shadow of who you are inside. Like a reflection of what everyone else expects from you. You don't tell anyone anything. You don't get in their faces and say 'this is who I am.' You don't own yourself."

"But, I just--"

"Enough. This is enough for today, Bella. I didn't mean for us to fight. I don't like fighting. You're my best friend, dammit, and the last thing I want to do is see you upset or hurt. I just wanted you to be honest with yourself. To quit holding yourself back. I meant what I said, girl. You're amazing. And the sooner you realize that, the better."

She smiled at me, a smile of acceptance and forgiveness, and I returned it with a weak one of my own.

I had hurt her feelings. I had made her resent me. I hadn't been there for her. I had demanded so much, just to let her efforts go unrewarded, unacknowledged, unreciprocated.

I would make it up to her.

"Angela," I sighed, reaching forward to pull her into a tight hug. "I am so, so sorry."

"It's ok, kid. You're worth it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

School began as usual, with Angie and I on good terms again. That morning had effected me in a major way, though, even if I wasn't letting her see it. It had been... wow.

I really had used her. I'd never truly thought about it before, never assessed my relationship with her, but the bottom line is that, for two people who call themselves best friends, we knew very little about each other. And it's my fault. I know it is.

She knows nothing about my life before Forks. I've never told her about school or life in Phoenix in any detail. Never really described my history with Charlie or Renee beyond things that seemed relevant at the time. She doesn't really know my insecurities. She doesn't really know why I am the way I am. She doesn't really know _me_. And that sucks.

And so resolutions have to be made. Time has to be set aside. Because Angela was and is my life preserver. She is my connection to the world. She's the sole reason for my sanity in this town. And I'll be damned if I ever take advantage of that again.

Of course, spending the entire first period asking her quietly about how things were between her and Ben only served to annoy the shit out of her. When I started asking about her brother, she punched me in the arm. When I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she flicked me off and nodded insistently to the front of the class. And then I started passing her notes.

_What college do you want to go to?_

_**I am so kicking your ass after class.**_

_What's your favorite flower?_

_**Seriously, Bella, I'll fuck you up.**_

_If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?_

_**It is so fucking on.**_

Yeah. Class was fun.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chemistry went by slowly without a best friend to harass, and then it was English again and Angela tactfully traded desks with me, leaving me seated behind the object of my obsession.

Edward was in rare form, wearing a light blue button down that set off the copper in his hair and made my lady parts go inappropriately tingly. Now that I was sitting behind him, I was enveloped in the sweetness of his scent, and found myself unable to concentrate on whatever was going on in the front of the room as I fixated on the lines of his back. Fuck he was beautiful. Maybe I was better off in my seat from yesterday.

But then he half-turned in his seat and graced me with that crooked smile and I swear to God there were birds singing somewhere nearby. I smiled back because that's what friends do, right?, and then pulled my lower lip between my teeth, trying to halt the images of exactly what I'd like his mouth to be doing to my body, trying to gain control of my once dormant libido. But then his eyes followed my lip as I bit it, and his mouth twitched and his eyebrows quirked and I had to stop a whole new set of images. At this rate, my lip would be gone by the end of the week.

"Would you like to eat lunch with me today?" he asked quietly when the teacher wasn't looking, dropping his eyes to the floor and fidgeting a bit as though he was nervous about my response.

Yeah, right. Like there's any way I'm turning down an offer like that.

"Sure," I whispered, inwardly punching myself at the way that my voice quavered and my hands started shaking. It was just lunch, after all. Not like we're going hunting for mountain lions or anything. "I need to tell Angie, though." Because friends include each other, dammit. In face, it'd be nice if I could have some backup...

"Oh. Great. Well, she could sit with us, if you like," he offered, looking me in the eye this time. He had stopped fidgeting. Frankly, he seemed relieved that I had accepted his invitation. I can't see why.

"I'm sure she's down with that. I'll ask her."

I turned towards my friend, only to find her looking back at me sardonically, a knowing smirk on her face. She didn't say anything to me. Just nodded before I even asked the question. Guess that's a 'yes,' then.

"Angela says she'd love to. Her and Ben, that is," I whispered to Edward, who had been watching our silent little exchange amusedly.

"Excellent."

"Should we sit at your usual table? There's not really any room at ours."

"My usual table? Tell me, Isabella, where do I usually sit?"

Oh shit. I probably look like a stalker now.

"Miss Swan? Mr. Cullen?" an irritated voice called from the front of the room, breaking into my mortification. "Am I interrupting something? Because we can wait for you to finish, if I am."

And so ends the conversation.

"Sorry," I murmured, exaggeratedly staring towards the front of the room, avoiding eye contact with Angela as she laughed silently at my side.

Still, I would be eating lunch with Edward Cullen today. Yesterday I had been dreading the cafeteria, but now I found that the period couldn't come fast enough.

**A/N: Hope you liked. Every relationship has its quarrels, and it was about time for Bella and Angie to hit a damn bump in the road.**

**My roommates (I hate that word and everything it implies, but when you're taking 18 credit hours a semester, you just can't afford a one-bedroom apartment) have yet to turn on the internet, so I'll be wandering into Starbucks for a couple of hours everyday until it gets done. Still, on my list of internet-usage priorities, fanfic is below e-mail, bill paying, and job searching, so updates may be erratic for the next week or two (not that they're not deeply erratic as it is). Fuck. If it takes them longer than a week to set it up, I may get pissy and just do it myself.**

**Anyway, reviews make the pain in my arms and hands go away. Hit the button and tip your waitress.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: My sincerest apologies for not updating for a while. I'm sorry to say that the erratic behavior will probably continue for the rest of the month, given my moving woes. Still, I think this chapter is kind of fun, so I hope it makes up for it.**

**Much love to Hannah and I don't own any of this...**

**Chapter Eight**

"Isabella Swan. So we meet again," Alice intoned, a twinkle in her golden eyes. Actually, come to think of it, her eyes were the exact same color as Edward's. Had I noticed that before?

"This time, it's personal," I replied darkly, arching an eyebrow across the table at her. In retrospect, she could have taken that entirely the wrong way, but after months of interacting with Angela, I had developed a tendency to respond to everything with a joke. When Alice arched her own eyebrow in response before emitting a rather disconcertingly bell-like laugh, I allowed myself a silent sigh of relief. At least the girl had a sense of humor.

Angela, seated next to me, gave me a brief jab in the ribs and a knowing nod before turning to Ben and starting a quiet conversation about a piece for the school newspaper. Edward, on my other side, looked decidedly uncomfortable. Alice and I, though, we seemed alright. And that made me feel a hell of a lot better.

I hadn't realized that she would be sitting with us. Of course, my lack of realization makes me, by definition, a moron, as she is Edward's sister and only remaining family member in school, and Edward always used to eat lunch with his siblings last year. The fact that I hadn't been expecting the sudden appearance of Alice Cullen at our table, his table, really, merely proves as a testament to the fact that I was so besotted by Edward's invitation that I hadn't considered the implications of said invite: to wit, I would be getting to know his sister a lot better. Initially, this scared the shit out of me. Luckily, Alice Cullen seemed to be a cool chick.

I resolved then and there to befriend her immediately. If anything, she would give me more insight into Edward's... more unique personality traits.

"So, Isabella- by the way, do you prefer 'Isabella' or 'Bella'?-" Alice asked.

"You can call me 'Bella.'"

Edward twitched at that.

"Brilliant. So, Bella, are you any good with math? I'm just abysmal with numbers."

"I'm not bad," I replied, shrugging noncommittally, wondering if that was the best she could come up with for small talk.

"Well, 'not bad' certainly trumps complete and utter failure. Is there any way I could convince you to tutor me, maybe? I mean, I know the year has only just begun, but I'm just desperate about my grade point average, and better safe than sorry, you know?"

Edward made an odd choking noise, but his sister jumped in again before I could ask him if he was alright.

"And, you know, maybe Carlisle could pay you, or something. For your time, I mean. And I wouldn't take up too, too much of your time. Maybe just a couple of days a week after school? Or weekends, if you prefer. Whatever's good for you. I'd be so grateful, Bella. Really. Please say yes?"

I looked around the table, stunned by the rather odd turn my lunch had taken. Alice was smiling hopefully at me, practically bouncing up and down in her seat. Edward seemed to be torn between glaring at the table in front of him and shooting daggers at his sister through his eyes. His hands were curled into the tight white fists I had come to know so well under the table, and the tension radiating off of him was palpable. Frankly, it was kind of adorable for some reason, though I can't fathom why his sister asking for math tutoring would piss him off so much. Angela just gave me another knowing smile before turning back to her boyfriend. And I was taking longer than was appropriate to respond to a simple question. So I gave the only answer that made sense.

"Of course, Alice. I'd love to. You don't have to pay me or anything. Don't be silly," I muttered, trying to sound sincere instead of sincerely awkward. I failed.

"Brilliant," her voice sang, and she gifted me with a couple more excited bounces in her seat before turning to her brother and winking. I don't believe I was supposed to see that wink, either.

"Alice, would you accompany me to the lunch line, please?" Edward asked stiffly.

"You already bought your lunch, Edward. Did you forget?" she smirked, twirling a lock of cropped, black hair around her finger.

"I'm in the mood for something else," he replied tersely, rising and pulling out his sister's chair before she responded.

"Yes, well, God forbid you should pick out a slice of pizza without my assistance. Lead the way, brother dearest," Alice trilled, smiling widely at me and rolling her eyes dramatically. She was the absolute opposite of Edward. And I loved her already. Even if she did seem a bit... off.

"What was that about?" Angela asked me once they were out of earshot.

"No clue," I replied with a shrug, noting that rather than entering the lunch line again, the siblings had exited the building.

"Whatever. Now you get to spend time in the Casa de Cullen. Be sure to take notes, Swan. People have been dying to get into that house since they moved here."

"Nobody's ever been to their house?" I asked incredulously.

"Nope," she responded, popping the 'p.' "I'm not even sure I know where they live."

"Huh. That's kind of weird. Not gonna lie."

"Well, you never know. They could be murderers. Or they could belong to a cult. Or they could be vampires."

"Definitely vampires," Ben chimed in, smiling.

"Why not all three?" I asked seriously. "A murdering vampire cult?"

"Or a _vampire_ murdering cult. They could be like Buffy." Leave it to Angela to bring up a show that hasn't been on TV for years.

"Either way, that would mean there are vampires in Forks."

"Which is highly improbable, since Forks is the most boring fucking place on the planet."

"You've never been to Jacksonville," I muttered.

"So just murderers, then?" Ben asked, grinning through a mouth full of potato chips.

"Definitely just murderers. Possibly serial killers, but let's not get our hopes up," I confirmed.

"Hopefully they target useless boys with shit table manners," Angela added, smacking Ben on the arm.

"How else will we learn?" he asked.

Brother and sister stayed absent for about fifteen minutes, allowing Angela, Ben and I to speculate on the contents of the Cullen basement, the Cullen closets, and the Cullen attic. By the time we moved on to what might be buried in the Cullen backyard, Edward and Alice had returned, and Angela wisely busied herself with Ben once more.

Conversation, most noticeably, stayed away from all aspects of academia this time, and Alice proceeded to question me about my general proclivities.

"Favorite musician?" she asked.

"Hmmm... that's a difficult question. Can you specify? Like... genre?"

"How about your favorite composer then?" she prompted, leaning forward and, for some reason, glancing at her brother.

"Alice, I seriously doubt that Bella--"

"Rachmaninoff," I replied, cutting Edward off. "Well, Rachmaninoff when I'm feeling moody. Chopin when I need to relax. Debussy when I'm feeling ethereal."

Alice grinned at me before shooting Edward an I-told-you-so look, and I bristled for a moment at his attempt to save me from the question. Am I too stupid to listen to classical music or something?

"I prefer Puccini, as well. Though Mozart's operas have their merits," I added, feeling a bit smug.

Edward turned and looked at me, his expression a mixture of surprise and confusion.

There. Suck it, Cullen.

"Do you play any instruments?" Alice asked, her face full of interest.

"Are you interviewing me?" I responded.

"Yes," she replied simply before repeating her last question again, smiling broadly.

"I took years of piano lessons," I began, shaking my head, "but I was absolute shit at it. Can't play anything but Bach. I can play guitar passably well. And I'm... fair... on a cello."

Edward just stared at me some more, his mouth open slightly.

"I didn't know that, Bella," Angela said beside me.

"Yes, well, I don't really play anymore. I don't even have any instruments here. We sold the cello in a garage sale a few years back, and I let Phil keep my guitar when I moved. If Charlie hadn't helped pay for some of my lessons, _he_ wouldn't even know. No big deal," I shrugged.

"So, what else can you do?" Edward asked quietly beside me.

"What do you mean? Like, can I leap tall buildings in a single bound or something?" I replied, confused by such a broad question.

"That's a great idea, actually. Why don't we go around the table and tell everyone what we're good at," Alice suggested, clapping her hands and bouncing again. Seriously, the girl had _way_ too much energy.

"Wait. Seriously?" Ben asked when her eyes rested on him first.

"Of course."

"But--"

"Alright, let's clarify, then. How about things you've done for more than... say... two years?" Alice offered. "I mean, it has to be something you've done for a long time. Two years long enough for everyone?" She winked at her brother again and waited for objections before continuing. "Perfect. So, what've you done for more than two years, Ben?"

"Uh..."

"He's a great writer," Angela offered, stepping in to save her boyfriend. "Editor-in-chief of the school paper this year as well."

"Brilliant. I'm horrible with words myself. Words and numbers. Can't seem to get a hold of them. Anything else?" Alice asked.

"I used to play soccer. And... uh... I'm good with mechanical stuff. Fixing it, I mean," Ben finished, ducking his head. He had turned so red I was worried about spontaneous combustion.

"Well, that's useful. What about you, Angela?"

Leave it to my best friend to be unfazed by the Spanish Inquisition.

"I love photography," she began graciously. "I've been taking pictures for years. And I used to dance when I was little. I was obsessed with it."

"I used to dance, too," I cut in, surprised by the amount of things we clearly didn't know about each other. "Ballet."

"I was a tap girl, myself," Angie said, laughing. "I liked making noise."

"I think Renee was trying to teach me to be graceful. It didn't work."

The entire table laughed at that. Even Edward managed to smile.

"What else, Bells?" Angela asked, nudging my shoulder. "Aside from your musical talents and incredible grace, that is."

"I dunno," I replied, uncomfortable that I was being questioned again.

"What do you like to do, Bella? What makes you happy?" Edward asked quietly beside me, his eyes trained on the table again.

"I like to read," I offered lamely. "Reading makes me happy. I never liked dance, to be honest. I'm not a graceful person, and I was one of the worst in the class. I went home crying a lot."

Huh. I hadn't thought about that in years.

"Renee never really knew, though. She loved the recitals. She was always so proud of me... so I let her think that I liked it. I took ballet lessons for six years... and I hated it. What a waste," I finished, shaking my head. I was basically talking to myself at this point.

"What about the music lessons? The piano and the cello and the guitar?" Angela asked warmly.

"The piano lessons were on the suggestion of my dance teacher. She thought it might give me a better sense of rhythm," I snorted. "I mean, how ridiculous can you get? Renee could barely afford the ballet lessons, but she managed to get me piano lessons of top of it. Just to make me better. It just ended up being another thing I wasn't good at. I couldn't get my fingers to stretch. I never enjoyed the lessons. Any of it." I sat, pensive for a moment, oblivious to the people around me. I hadn't given any of this consideration for a long time. That part of my life felt like centuries ago.

"The cello, though... I really liked that. I wasn't bad at it, either. When I got into middle school, I joined the school orchestra, and they had me try a bunch of different instruments. I liked the idea of the string bass, but it was too big for me... I mean, it literally knocked me on my ass when I tried to hold it up," I laughed at the memory and registered some laughs around me as well.

"But the cello, that was perfect. And we got me a cheap one. Renee got me lessons again. Charlie even chipped in to help with them occasionally. I played all the way through middle school, but when I got to high school, there weren't enough students for an orchestra, so I stopped playing. We sold the cello when I was a sophomore. Now that I think of it, I kind of... miss it. It was nice, having something to practice, something to concentrate on, something that was mine."

I nodded once, twice, remembering how it felt to bring the bow across the strings, to spend hours trying to perfect a tricky piece of music, to pour all of my time and energy into something just because I enjoyed doing it. It had been lovely. The sound of someone across the cafeteria dropping their tray brought me back to reality, and I blushed as I realized the extent of the tangent I'd just indulged myself in. This was not "getting-to-know-you" conversation.

"W-what about you, Edward?" I asked lightly, trying to shake my embarrassment. Angela squeezed my leg under the table briefly in understanding.

"Edward plays piano," Alice responded for her brother, whose eyes were fixed very firmly upon the surface of the table in front of him. Honestly I didn't know if he'd heard me or not.

"Oh, really? That's great. I mean, I never knew that. What sort of music, Edward?" I asked, shocked that we may have had something, however small, in common.

"He plays classical, mostly, but he's also brilliant with jazz. And he composes as well," Alice continued as Edward sat in silence.

"Classical? Do you have a favorite composer?" At this point I was just trying to get him to talk.

Alice gave him some space to answer before giving up and continuing.

"He plays a lot of Rachmaninoff, actually," she grinned. "And Esme's favorite is Claire de Lune, so we hear quite a bit of Debussy as well, when he's feeling accommodating."

"Rachmaninoff? Really? You must be quite good, Edward."

"I get by," was his terse response, shaking his head minutely before dragging his gaze away from the table and up to my eyes, trapping me in his look. "We should get going. The bell is going to ring."

As though on cue, the bell did, indeed, sound, and we all went about the task of swinging our bags onto our shoulders and clearing away the remnants of our lunches.

"We never got to hear about your talents, Alice," Angela said as we all walked towards the trash can.

"Well, to be continued, then. We'll just have to sit together again tomorrow," Alice declared, bouncing on the balls of her feet and gracing us with a truly intoxicating smile.

Angela and I looked at each other, smiling, before turning and nodding our consent to the little ball of energy that was Edward's sister.

"Perfect," she trilled. "Oh, and, Bella?" she asked as I turned to leave the group.

"Yes?"

"Could you come over after school today? To help me with math?"

Everything froze.

Seriously, time stood still.

Angela looked at me.

Alice looked at me.

Edward looked... well, at Alice.

And I looked... well, at Edward. Which was unfortunate, because he was not the one addressing me.

"Sure, Alice. Not a problem," I replied after what seemed like an age, willing my voice to stay even.

"Brilliant. Edward will ride with you, and I'll drive his car home. I'm horrible at giving directions. Well, see you in pre-calc!" she called, halfway towards the doors and skipping.

Edward stared after her, his face a perfect mask of shock, and I'm sure my expression mirrored his own.

I was going to the Cullen's house _today_.

And Edward was driving with me.

**A/N: Nothing like a murdering vampire cult to brighten a girl's day. Review, please. You know I'm lost without them.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey, guys. Ummm... yeah. So, I know this took forever. Honestly, it wouldn't even be happening now. Thank H1N1 (swine flu sounds too lame) for making today suck enough that I'm writing to distract myself. If this gets posted, it'll be a miracle. I'm having to re-read everything I wrote because I have no recollection of the story up to this point. If that isn't dedication, I don't know what is.**

**The followed is un-beta'd. And probably shit. But here you go anyway. I'll probably be sick for a week or so, so who knows? You might get lucky.**

**I don't own this. I also don't own health insurance at present. Very inconvenient.**

**Chapter Nine**

So, here's the thing about Edward Cullen: he confuses the shit out of me.

The day flew by after lunch. I'm sure people talked to me. I'm sure I raised my hand and participated in class. Hell, I may have even taken a quiz or two. I don't remember any of it. Apparently, I'm very good at appearing externally engaged while a fucking tsunami-esque crisis of confusion rips through my brain, knocking over palm trees and washing away all rational thought until I'm left with the scattered debris of what was once my somewhat organized mind.

Yeah, I can get poetic when I want.

Fuck off.

The most I remember about my post-lunch school day is standing by my truck like a sap. Edward made me wait for him. I'm pretty sure it was on purpose. And then he had the balls to smirk at me. He fucking _smirked_. Swaggering across the parking lot like he owned it and running his stupid sex-hands through his stupid sex-hair. Douche.

Before I knew it, we were well outside the boundaries of Forks proper, with Edward all but ignoring my presence behind the wheel, speaking only to offer me curt directions. That shit was annoying. Isn't there a law universally recognized that people are obligated to at least _attempt_ vapid small talk while confined in a moving vehicle together?

Memories of moving to Forks and being grateful for the awkward silence between Charlie and me drifted into my mind. I beat them back voraciously. No, I'm not a hypocrite. I just want the boy to _talk_.

But we made it to his house. And by house I mean mansion. And by mansion I mean cover of Architectural Digest. And he had the temerity to just jump out of my truck and stride through the front door like he did it every day. Like he lives there. Which he does. But still. That's not the point.

Clearly, things were not off to a good start. I shook my head, though I'm not sure if it was at Edward's rudeness or at my implicit acceptance of his behavior, and wrenched open the door to the cab, attempting to climb down onto the uneven earth that made up the Cullen's drive with the grace and poise of a queen. I failed miserably. What else is new.

Scrambling back to my feet and glancing around to determine if anyone caught my gaff, I hitched my backpack over my shoulder and walked, with as much confidence as I could muster, towards the door Edward had just passed through. He had just walked inside. Should I do the same? Should I knock? Ring the bell? Run back to my truck and peel out, pretending this day never happened?

In what was turning into a rather predictable pattern, Alice Cullen made my decision for me.

"Bella!" she cried, flinging the door open and wrapping her tiny hand around my arm, yanking me inside with more force than I would have ever thought possible and bringing me into her body for a fierce hug. "You made it!"

"Uh... yeah. Hi."

I'm a fucking genius.

"I'm so glad, Bella. You have no idea. I've wanted you to come here for so long." She took off up a flight of stairs and I hesitated for a moment before deciding I was supposed to follow her. I made it to the landing just in time to see her back retreat through a doorway at the end of the hall, and I hurried to catch up with her.

Crossing the threshold into the room, I was taken more than a bit by surprise. It was just so... _Alice._

The space was enormous, bigger than Charlie's and my bedrooms put together, and boasted a wall of floor to ceiling glass. The other three walls were painted a soft, lavender gray, and were covered in stunning black and white photographs of what appeared to be prominent European cities. There was an enormous white lacquered desk and the most opulent bed I'd ever seen, draped in a gray silk bedspread with a black lace overlay. It was over the top and fashionable and so damn Alice. It was perfect.

My eyes snapped back to the room's sole occupant, and I realized, a bit belatedly, that she'd been happily talking to me this entire time.

"Yeah, that's great," I said vaguely, hoping my comment wouldn't be too inappropriate since I had no idea what she'd just said. "You said you needed some math help?"

She cocked her head to the side and looked at me, really looked at me, and I tried to fight the urge to fidget. I already felt out of place here. Her looking at me as though she was figuring me out wasn't helping.

Silence stretched between us before she bounced on her toes a bit and twirled elegantly over to a low couch in the corner.

"I don't need math help, Bella. What made you think that?"

Huh?

"Well, the fact that, not four hours ago, you told me that you needed math help. In fact, that's the reason you asked me over today. That's why I'm here, Alice."

She laughed. Fucking confusing little pixie.

"I wanted you to come spend time with me. At my house. You wouldn't have come otherwise. I'm really quite good in math, Bella. But I thank you for your offer to help. You're such a kind person. We're going to be great friends."

As if shit wasn't intolerably weird before...

Right. Time to go.

"Well, Alice, that's great, but I really do have to be going now. Thanks so much for inviting me over. You have a beautiful house."

I turned around and started down the hallway, replaying in my mind all of Angela and Ben's conjectures about what might be hiding in the Cullen basement. Honestly, with the way this chick was acting, I wouldn't put it past them to be cult leaders. Or members. Or serial killers... shit. I walked faster.

"Bella, wait! Wait, please? Come on, just give me one minute, and then you can run away if you want."

I turned on my heel slowly, eying a rather petulant Alice with skepticism.

"Look, Bella. I really like you. And I really, really, really feel like we're going to be great friends. And I wanted to hang out with you today. I'm sorry that I lied, but I know things are weird between you and Edward and I didn't think I could get you here without some sort of excuse. Please? Please stay. At least until Esme gets home. I know she's anxious to meet you."

"Esme?"

"Our mom."

Their mom. Their mom was anxious to meet me. Right, then. I kept walking. Alice didn't follow.

By the time I reached my truck, yet another voice was calling after me. This one deeper. Richer. More musical. Shit.

"Isabella. Wait."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't a request. It was a statement.

I waited, careful not to turn around.

"I'm sorry about Alice."

"Alright."

I resumed my walk.

"Wait."

I waited. Damn treacherous body. It seems I'm hard-wired to do anything the boy asks, whether I like it or not.

"I know she can come on a bit strong some times, but she is terribly anxious to get to know you."

There's that word again. Anxious.

I'm anxious, too.

For an entirely different reason.

"I'll see you both in school," I replied, reaching out and wrenching open the driver's side door of my truck.

"Isabella, I'm sorry."

Well, that's a horse of a different color.

I turned to face him, then, angry at my hands for shaking, my pulse for daring to race.

"I'm sorry for everything. I've disappointed you. And I'm sorry."

I looked up into those eyes, those amber, piercing eyes, and allowed myself to drown for a moment before thinking on his words.

"You're right," I replied. "You _have_ disappointed me."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, taking a reluctant step towards me, flexing his fingers at his sides.

"Look, Edward," I began reluctantly, uncertain with whether I was ready to do this or not, "we never really finished our conversation from before. Maybe we need to do that before we can try this whole 'friends' thing."

"Maybe."

I dropped my gaze to the ground, nodding absently, before turning once more and beginning to climb behind the wheel.

"Maybe we should do it now."

Well, fuck a duck.

"Alright."

Damn, I'm smooth. I dropped my backpack onto the chilled vinyl of the seat and closed the door, walking towards him.

"Where are we going to do this?" I asked, coloring slightly as I realized just how forward that question sounded.

"There's a creek not far from here. We could take a walk."

"Alright," I shrugged. "Lead the way."

And he did.

And I followed him.

Because following him appears to be what I do best.

**A/N: So, here's the thing guys. Does he tell her he's a vamp in the next chapter or doesn't he? I'm not sure. I'm tired of all this emo avoidance. It's kind of why I ditched in the first place. And I'm sorry for making Alice a bit creepy, but, let's face it, Alice is a bit creepy.**

**Anyway, review. The more reviews I get, the guiltier I feel about not updating. And let me know where you'd like to see this go. I'd kill for some input at this point.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey, kids. I'm in class right now, but I got bored... so happy Chanukah! **

**This chapter is the set up... next chapter's the reveal. So read this and review it. The more reviews I get, the quicker the next chapter goes up.**

**Chapter 10**

Edward's creek felt more like a small river to me. We sat there in tall, yellowing grass, watching the water slip over the smooth, protruding stones of the riverbed, watching distant trees as they swayed in the wind. The peace surrounding us was stifling, the sense of tranquility acutely uncomfortable. With the amount of inner turmoil roaring through my body, it seemed unfair that nature could simply carry on as though nothing was wrong. I felt exposed. I felt lost.

I shifted uncomfortably, crossing my legs in front of me and lifting my gaze to the line of trees beyond the riverbank. From someplace in the shadows, I watched as a deer moved gracefully from the cover of the woods, lithely approaching the water in front of us. Fascinated, I reached out and tugged on Edward's sleeve, trying to soundlessly alert him to the rather magical display before us. He tensed immediately at the touch of my hand, tensing further when he noticed the deer in front of us. An almost primal sound emerged from his chest, a rumbling growl that spread goosebumps across my skin and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The deer froze across from us, staring directly at Edward for a moment before tearing back into the forest as though the devil was on its heels.

It was... well, strange doesn't even begin to cover it.

"Edward," I said softly, turning to face him. His eyes were fixed on the trees, seemingly focused on the spot where the deer had disappeared. There was no trace of the lovely butterscotch gold that normally held me in its thrall. They were black. Black as the day I met him. "Edward."

Slowly, he moved his gaze from the woods, taking in every inch of space before him before locking eyes with me.

"Yes, Isabella?"

"What was that?" I asked, gesturing back towards the trees.

"Animals do not like us," he replied cryptically, his voice hypnotic, his eyes drawing me in.

"Us?" I breathed, leaning towards him without meaning to do so.

"My kind."

"Your kind."

"My family."

His family. His kind. Us.

"Why is that?" I asked, blinking, trying to concentrate on his words, trying to break the spell that his mere presence had cast over me. "Are you hunters or something?"

"Hunters. Yes. Something like that," he replied archly, chuckling humorlessly.

"Something like that," I repeated to myself.

His family. His kind. Hunters. Something like that.

Us.

"Edward, you wanted to talk."

"You're right. I wanted to talk."

"Then talk," I insisted weakly.

"I'm afraid that may be difficult for me at present, Isabella. Perhaps you should begin."

His eyes never left mine. I felt trapped. I felt terrified. I felt... exhilarated.

Something was happening with this boy. Something wasn't quite right. Something had been troubling me since that day when he saved me from the bike. No... since before that. Since the day I saw him. Since the day I met him. Since the day...

I reached out and grabbed his hand, ignoring his flinch as I drew it towards me. Breaking our stare, I looked down at his palm, flipping his hand in mine and trapping it in my lap, tracing his icy, smooth flesh with the tips of my fingers. He exhaled sharply but said nothing, did nothing. He just watched me. Watched me as I watched myself explore the marble of his skin.

When the clouds above us broke for a fleeting moment, throwing a shard of sunlight upon us and making his hand glisten like it did on that day, that day when my life changed so thoroughly, I pretended not to notice it. I didn't pause. I didn't flinch. I didn't breathe. I just kept exploring. And he did not acknowledge it, except to eventually trap both of my hands between his own, squeezing gently, before drawing them away.

"I would like to know your secrets, Edward. And I would like for you to know mine," I whispered after an age.

And after another age, he replied.

"I am sorry, Isabella, but they are not my secrets to tell."

His family. His kind.

"No. You're right," I agreed. "They're not."

They're not.

"So where does this leave us?" I breathed, mostly to myself.

"Nowhere I'd like to be, I'm afraid," he responded gently, a look of utter pain crossing his face before he arranged it once more into an expression of indifference.

"Nowhere."

Slowly, I stretched my legs in front of me, straightening them as I lowered myself backwards onto the grass, turning onto my side and cradling my head on my arm.

And he followed me, moving gracefully to mirror my position, looking into my eyes as I looked into his.

We were lost. Both of us. And there were no maps, no breadcrumbs. No north star to show us the way.

I took in every detail of him, tried to commit this moment to memory. So beautiful in its pain. So perfect in its agony.

I watched his chest as it rose and fell rhythmically in time with my own. Observed how his hair shone, even on such a cloudy day. How his eyelashes fluttered every time he blinked. How his mere presence made my heart race and my skin flush.

And I knew, just like I'd always known, that this was love. The true kind. The fairy tale kind. The Shakespearean kind. The kind Jane Austen wrote of.

But were we Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy? Or were we Romeo and Juliette?

My eyes began to close and I let Edward's scent, his presence, his existence cradle me, comfort me, protect me. His very being protected me from my anguish. And as I drifted to sleep, I began to understand how my blessing could also be my curse.

Nowhere. We were nowhere.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

I woke up warm and comfortable in my bed and, aside from the initial surprise of waking up someplace where I had definitely _not_ fallen asleep, I wasn't too shocked by it. Which was odd. For me.

It was dark in my room and I rolled over to check the time. Midnight. I had slept for a while again.

And Edward had brought me home. I was sure of it.

I rose, stretching and yawning, and crossed the room to my window, craning my neck to look towards the front of the house. My truck was in the driveway. Of course.

Edward had taken care of everything.

Of course.

Absentmindedly, I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing as they encountered the tangles and bits of grass that my little nap by the river had created. A shower was definitely in order and I set of to take one immediately.

My time spent under the warm water was put to good use. I ran through everything that had happened between me and the Cullens today. Every word, glance, and silence was replayed in my mind with as much accuracy as I could muster. I spent a good deal of time trying to puzzle out Edward's reaction to the deer. And, more compellingly, the deer's reaction to Edward.

His family. His kind. Hunters.

It didn't fit. Nothing fit. Nothing at all.

I turned off the water and stepped carefully out of the shower, wrapping my hair in one towel and my body in another. Back in my bedroom, I pulled on some flannel boxers and a tank top, wrangling my hair into a damp bun, and flinging my wet towels into a corner, to be dealt with later. I had a mission now. If it took me all night... all week... all month. I would figure out Edward Cullen.

I settled myself into my desk chair and opened my laptop, proceeding to Google the first thing that came to mind.

"Cullen."

The search yielded thousands of results of course, so I tried again, more specifically this time.

"Edward Cullen."

Again, thousands, but none the one I wanted. Edward, my Edward, did not exist on the internet. Which seemed strange. Experimentally, I searched for my own name, and came up with a handful of links related to me. There was my MySpace, my Facebook, a blurb in a Phoenix paper about my writing a prize-winning essay back in middle school. I searched for Angela with similar results. And Ben. And Renee. But there was no Edward.

Odd.

I tried Alice.

Jasper.

Rosalie.

Emmett.

Nothing.

This was getting me nowhere.

"Carlisle Cullen."

I found his office hours, credentials, and a small picture. All linked through the hospital's website. But there was nothing else. And if he was such an amazing doctor...

Nothing.

I tried to trace his credentials.

Nothing.

I found the hospital he had last worked at in Alaska.

He existed nowhere on their site.

I looked up public record, trying to find out where his family had lived there.

He didn't exist.

This was frustrating.

And fucked up.

His family. His kind.

They didn't exist anywhere but in Forks, apparently.

And that just didn't make sense.

With a grunt of determination, I flicked on my desk lamp and snatched a blank sheet of paper from my printer.

If I couldn't find out about his family, then I would try to figure out "his kind."

One frustrating hour later, I had a rather messy list of traits compiled.

_Cold skin_

_Shines in sunlight_

_Hunters_

_Gold eyes_

_Black eyes_

_Fast_

_Strong_

_Extremely attractive_

_Scares animals_

I had sifted through every memory, thought, inkling. Everything in my brain that I had filed under the label of "Cullen."

And now I had a list.

And now I had to use it.

Just looking at it once it was completed had me wigging out a little bit. Because this was not anything I could see myself applying to anyone else I knew. I had never _met_ anyone that cold before. I had never met anyone whose eyes changed from one impossible color to the next. And I'm not even going to _think_ about the sparkling thing. Cause that shit's just confusing.

So, task completed, I dutifully opened Google once more, staring blankly at the screen for a few moments, allowing the blinking of the cursor in the search box to hypnotize me.

Once I did this, there was no going back.

I had known after the bike incident that Edward was different.

I had convinced myself that it didn't matter.

Was that true?

"Man up, Swan," I muttered to myself with a shake of my head. "You won't know what you're dealing with until you find out."

And so, I dove in.

At first, I tried searching for each trait individually. Some of them yielded similar results. Some of them did not. It was inconclusive. So I tried combining some of the more prominent ones.

Cold skin and sunlight brought me a handful of pages on Vitamin D defficiency.

Strong and fast brought me links of exercise regimens.

And then I combined the four.

And the results became much more singular.

I clicked on link after link, fully absorbing the content of each page before moving on to the next. I printed some of the more academic ones. I began using the "find" function in my browser to hunt for some of the additional traits on my list within each page. And they were all there. In one form or another, they were all there.

I didn't think about what it meant. I didn't give my rational mind time to catch up. I just continued to methodically research.

I visited roughly 29 websites in three hours.

I printed almost a full ream of information.

I didn't judge. I didn't qualify. I didn't think.

I just read.

And, when it was over, I was certain of one thing.

Edward Cullen was a vampire.

It's funny how much calmer I was after I was able to properly diagnose the boy I had fallen in love with. How much easier it was for me to breathe when I knew the reason he was the way he was.

I wondered how old he was.

I wondered how he had been changed.

I wondered who he used to be in comparison to who he was now.

I stood from my desk and moved to the center of the room, staring at my floor as the thoughts swirled through my mind.

Vampires were real.

Edward was a vampire.

How in the hell was this possible?!

And how the fuck was I believing it?!

And what the...

And then it hit me.

The shock settled in, and my initial peace was forgotten.

This was fucked up.

My knees buckled and I dropped gracelessly to the floor, curling up on my side and drawing the edges of my rug around me for protection.

I began to cry, giving in as short, wracking sobs worked their way from my body. I felt the tears slide down my face, tasted the bile in the back of my throat.

This wasn't fair.

It wasn't right.

It wasn't natural.

It wasn't _possible_.

And that thought stopped me.

I sat up too quickly, battling back the dizziness that swept over me from my sudden change in position.

It _wasn't_ possible.

I was wrong.

I _had _to be wrong.

I'm so fucking stupid.

So gullible.

So...

A movement by my window caught my attention, and my eyes snapped towards it automatically.

The branches of the tree outside were moving. They were moving gently, yes, but they were moving. As though something had been in them.

I crossed to the window and peered out, squinting against the darkness.

The trees in the woods were perfectly still.

There was no wind.

Something had come in contact with my tree.

And I knew then what I had somehow always known.

It was him.

The streak of bronze I had seen in the woods all those days ago.

That had been him.

He had brought me home tonight, but he had stayed.

And he was still here, somewhere.

I opened my window, leaning out slightly and whispering in the direction of the woods.

"Edward," I said, "I know you're there. And we need to talk."

**A/N: So? I think this was pretty weak. I'm having a hard time getting back into the story... but leaving it unfinished was bugging me. Tell me what you thought, please. **


	12. Chapter 12

"_Edward, I know you're there. And we need to talk."_

**Chapter 12**

I don't know what I was expecting. I don't know what I wanted in that moment. A part of me wanted to see him so badly, to shake him, to scream at him, to demand the truth. A part of me wanted to make him hurt the way he had hurt me time and time again. To confuse him the way he confused me. To punish him for turning my life upside down.

But a bigger part of me just wanted to see him. To see him and feel better. Because seeing him, even when I was furious or awkward or embarrassed or terrified, _always _made me feel better.

I stood at my window, gripping the sill until my knuckles were white and my fingers stiff, staring blindly into the darkness, willing him to come to me. I shivered as the damp night air wafted into my room, settling in my still damp hair, running thickly across my bare shoulders.

I stood and I waited. And when he didn't come, I did the only thing I could think of. I talked to him.

"Edward," I whispered for the second time that night. "Edward, I know that you don't know what you're doing. I don't know either. I don't know, and it scares the shit out of me. I don't know what this is, this _thing_ between us. I don't know who you are. Hell, I don't even know who _I_ am. But I know that I'm tired of fighting it. So tired, Edward."

I paused, squinting as hard as I could, trying to force him out. Trying to convince myself that he was out there, somewhere, and that he could hear me.

"And I'm sorry for being so difficult. I'm sorry if I want too much. But I feel things, now. Things that I have never, ever felt before. Things that I never believed in and never thought I could. And it's because of you. It's all because of you. Your very existence has meant so much to me, Edward. And I just wanted you to know that. You may not be able to tell me your secrets, Edward, but I want you to know one of mine..."

I took a deep breath, feeling strangely grounded as tears began to slip freely down my cheeks. I needed to say this, and, whether he was listening or not, at least I would know that I'd done it.

"I am in love with you. No matter where you are, Edward. No matter who or what you are. I may not know your mind, but I know your soul. And I love you. I love you."

And, for one perfect moment, the clouds broke above and illuminated the trees in front of me. And my eyes found him where he stood, stock still, arms at his sides, staring into my window. At me. He had heard me. And that was enough for one night.

"Goodnight, Edward," I breathed, making eye contact with him as best I could with the distance between us. He offered me a short nod, just a slight jerk of the head, but it was enough. Satisfied, I gave him a small smile and gently closed my window, turning away to head back to bed.

Pulling the covers back, I moved into the center of my mattress, drawing my knees into my chest and grabbing a pillow to hug. I had done so well. I was so proud of myself. It had taken complete darkness for me to say what had to be said. It had taken a day of confusion and turmoil and a night of absolute panic. But I had said it. And he had heard me. And, for right now, that was all I could ask for.

And so, when I felt, rather than heard, my window opening for the second time that night, I was more than a little surprised. And when I saw the beautifully graceful body I had come to adore so much move into my room as though he had been doing it all his life, I was without words.

"Isabella," he breathed, his voice water in a desert, "I love you, too."

**A/N: I'm a bitch. But I'm trying to get my readers back. I'm more than a little disappointed, guys, ain't gonna lie. I'll stop being all emo, though. And start making true on my promises. Give me reviews and I'll give you a chapter. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I have a final tomorrow. Guess what I should be doing right now...**

**Chapter 13**

"_Isabella, I love you, too."_

Holy shit.

This is not happening. _So_ not happening. Wake up, Bella. Wake the fuck up right now. Because this isn't fair. End the dream before it gets better or you'll be so fucking depressed in the morning.

I sat there, gaping like a fish, my mouth opening and closing, scrubbing my palms across my eyes, trying to make sense of this boy, this man, standing in my bedroom and telling me exactly what I had been waiting to hear him say to me.

My entire life had lead up to this moment.

And I was fucking ruining it by acting like a carp.

Edward didn't move, hadn't moved a muscle, in fact, since he had closed the window behind him and said what he'd apparently come here to say. He just stood there, his hair and eyes still managing to glimmer and shine in the nonexistent light of my dark room, and stared at me.

He didn't breathe.

He didn't blink.

He just stared.

The words "ill-equipped" come to mind.

We just looked at each other for what felt like years until he gave me a short nod and turned towards my window again. The threat of his retreat scared me into action.

"What?" I whispered.

I'm a fucking idiot.

Have I mentioned that lately?

He stopped, hand on my window sill, and turned his face towards me, his mouth quirking into a shadow of that crooked smile I love so much.

"I could ask you the same question," he responded, entirely too smoothly.

Fucking bastard Edward and his lack of nervousness.

"I just," I tried again, willing myself to speak in multiple syllables this time, "I don't understand, Edward. Help me understand."

"You told me you love me, Isabella. You leaned out of your window and made a speech. You played Juliette this evening, love. I decided to play Romeo."

Suave son-of-a-bitch.

"I suppose I did."

Someone kill me now before I make even more of an ass of myself. Please? A little help over here?

"I suppose so," was all he said, but he did me the courtesy of moving more fully into the room. At least I knew that he wasn't about to run away.

"Did you mean it?" I asked my closet doors, unable to look at him for fear of his response.

"Yes, love. Yes, I did."

And I still couldn't look at him, fucking child that I am. I just sat there, not looking at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Did you, sweet Isabella? Did you mean what you said? Was there truth in your soliloquy?"

Why the fuck is he talking to me like we're in a movie?

"Yes."

"Well, then, I suppose we understand each other now."

"Yes, I suppose we do."

More silence. And I still could look at him.

This was the most important night in my life, the night to which all others would be compared, and I was acting like a fucking child.

"What do we do now?" I asked no one in particular.

"We love each other," Edward said, carefully articulating each word as though trying to convince himself of their truth.

"Lovely."

"I think so."

This is me crashing and burning. This is me running the car off a bridge. This is me jumping off of a cliff. This is me skydiving without a parachute. This is me...

"Isabella, may I ask what this is?"

And I turned to look at him. And he was standing in front of my desk. His gorgeous fingers wrapped around a rather particular and moderately humiliating piece of paper. With the word "EDWARD" scrawled in large, black, Sharpie-d letters across the top.

When I said nothing, concentrating instead on willing my mattress to open up and swallow me whole, he began to read aloud.

"Cold skin," he read. "Shines in sunlight, hunters, gold eyes, black eyes, fast, strong..."

He kept going. And when he was finished, he read it again. And again. And then his eyes found another stack of papers on my desk. A stack of research printed off the internet. Pictures and articles and blog posts... about vampires.

"Why, my sweet Isabella, whatever are you doing with this?"

There was laughter in his voice. And amusement. He was mocking me. He was _enjoying_ this.

And that was ten shades of fucked up.

"I was doing research," I managed, after an age. "I was trying to learn..."

"Learn about what, pray tell?"

"About you. Your family. Your kind. You wouldn't tell me."

He looked at me. I looked at him. And then I studied the floor at his feet.

"You wouldn't tell me," I repeated, mostly to myself.

"I could not, Bella, reveal secrets that were not my own. I believe we went over this," he said quietly, all traces of amusement gone.

"I was trying to help you," I implored my rug, "trying to find out so you didn't _have_ to tell me. I could keep not knowing. I just couldn't."

He was quiet. I was quiet. And then I watched his feet cross my floor and stop next to my bed. Felt the edge of the mattress sag ever-so-slightly as his weight settled upon it.

I very cold, very long finger found its way under my chin, urging my head upward so that I would meet his gaze, sending electricity through every inch of my body and setting my heart off at a gallop.

"And how do you feel about what you found out?" he asked, reluctance thick in his voice. His face was unguarded, for once, and I detected fear behind his eyes. Fear of rejection? Of acceptance?

"Is it true?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"What does your research tell you?"

"That you are... that your family is... not like me."

"We are not, Isabella. You are right about that. We are not like you."

His hand moved from my chin to cup my cheek, sending delicious shivers down my spine and making it difficult to think. The boy who never touched me was practically caressing me now. It was a rather extreme shift, and my already overtaxed brain was working overtime to catch up.

"We are... different," he clarified.

I nodded my understanding.

"But I still must ask what conclusions you've drawn, Isabella. And I must ask what your feelings are in regards to said conclusions."

His tone was soft, non-threatening. The tone you might use with a frightened child. He was being careful with me. I appreciated the concern.

But I clearly wasn't getting out of the inevitable.

How does one just come out and accuse someone of being a vampire?

"I didn't want to believe it," I began, swallowing convulsively as I felt my panic from before begin to resurface. "It didn't seem possible. At first, I tried searching for your name, the names of your siblings, your parents. But you didn't exist. You didn't exist _anywhere_. At least not as 'Cullen.'"

I looked up at him, waiting for a reaction, an explanation perhaps, but he simply nodded, silently urging me to continue.

"And then, since I couldn't find _you_, I tried remembering things about you. Things that were... different... from other people. That list... that list is what is special about you. And those papers, those were the results of my research."

I felt the tears as they began to fill my eyes, overflowing onto my cheeks, dripping off of my face and landing hotly on my bare legs. The shock I had felt before came back full-force, and I suddenly found myself hugging my knees and sobbing quietly, rocking myself back and forth, trying desperately to stop this train wreck of a nervous breakdown I was having and yet powerless to stop it.

A cold hand settled itself on my back, rubbing soothing circles over the cotton of my tank top. Another hand urged me to loosen my grip on my legs, helped me lay my head down on my pillow, and began a comfortingly rhythmic circuit up and down my arm.

"I tried not to believe it, Edward," I cried, horrified at how broken my voice sounded, how difficult it was for me to catch my breath. "I tried so hard. I'm sorry, Edward. I'm sorry."

"Isabella, love, I know this is difficult for you. I know that you tried. And I am so sorry for putting you through this. So very, very sorry, Isabella. But I need you to say it to me. I need you to tell me what you found out, what you believe. I promise not to be upset or angry or hurt in any way. But you need to tell me, love. You need to tell me so you'll feel better."

His hushed words made me cry harder, made me dig my fingers into my bedspread and try to bury my head in the pillow. He _couldn't_ be a vampire. Vampires don't exist. And the internet doesn't fucking _know_ anything. How could it be right? How could he be...

But he wasn't going to tell me what he was. He couldn't. He'd made that much clear. And,even if what I said was wrong, even if he left and never spoke to me again because of it, at least I'll have gotten it off my chest. At least it would be over. It would be...

"Vampire," I gasped out after what felt like forever. "You're a vampire, Edward."

"Yes, Isabella. Yes, I am."

And, with those five little words, words that validated the entire basis of my freak-out and negated everything I had held true in the world, I did what any sensible girl would do, were she in my situation.

I fainted.

**A/N: So, this didn't go the way I thought it would. Still, I got back Isabella's inner-monologue (I had missed that something fierce) and I hope it wasn't as bogged down in emo shit as the last couple of updates.**

**I'd like to welcome the new readers and thank my old ones for sticking with me. Thanks for the reviews and the pats on the back. Wish me luck, as tomorrow kicks off my finals week.**


	14. Chapter 14

_"Vampire," I gasped out after what felt like forever. "You're a vampire, Edward."_

_"Yes, Isabella. Yes, I am."_

_And, with those five little words, words that validated the entire basis of my freak-out and negated everything I had held true in the world, I did what any sensible girl would do, were she in my situation._

_I fainted._

**Chapter 14**

When I woke up, it was morning. I felt the sunlight on my face before I even opened my eyes. I felt the blankets tucked snugly around my body and snuggled a bit deeper into them. I felt the fabric of Edward's sweater balled up in my fist and jumped out of my bed like it was on fire.

"You're here," I managed, stammering.

"You're awake."

"I guess we're both just full of useful observations this morning," I bit out, staring at him as he stretched out across my bed, arms folded behind his head as though he hadn't a care in the world. Who was he and what had he done with my brooding Edward?

"Just this morning, Isabella? I thought last night was rather useful as well. How are you feeling?"

"Swell."

"Lovely."

Lovely. Yeah.

I stared at him and he smirked back. And we stayed that way. For entirely too long.

Snippets of the night before leaped to the forefront of my mind. Me declaring feelings. Him declaring feelings. Me calling him a vampire. Him calling himself a vampire. Me passing out.

Oh yeah. I passed out. Weak.

Wait. He's a vampire.

Oh yeah. Undead.

"Edward..."

"Yes, Isabella?"

"Did I have a really fucked up dream?"

"No."

"Did I hit my head when I fainted?"

"What sort of man would I be if I allowed you to harm yourself? Of course you didn't hit your head. You didn't even hit the ground."

"Right, then. Thanks for that, by the way."

"My pleasure, love."

"Love, right. I love you."

"As I love you."

"And you're a vampire."

"Yes."

"I'm in love with a vampire."

"I'm in love with a human girl."

"Mine's stranger."

"To you, I suppose."

"Am I asleep right now?"

"I sincerely hope not."

"Right."

"Indeed."

Befuddled and with more than a small headache, I sank down onto my rocking chair, eying Edward warily as he straightened himself on my bed.

"So, you should talk now."

"Right. Where would you like me to begin?"

"The beginning. How old are you?"

"Around 110. Give or take a few years."

"Yeah, that's how I count my age, too. What's a decade between friends?"

"Isabella..." his tone belied a warning, but levity was the only thing keeping me sane at this point.

"How'd it happen? How are you a vampire?"

"Carlisle changed me. My parents had died of Spanish influenza and I was on my way out myself. My mother's dying words were spent on Carlisle, asking him to take care of me. And so, he did. He saved my life the only way he could. It was the first time he had tasted human blood in over a century."

He was being so matter of fact. And I suppose it was to him. A matter of fact, that is.

"Your 'siblings'?"

"All changed by Carlisle, save Alice and Jasper who came to us on their own. Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett were all dying. Carlisle would never have changed them otherwise."

"How many towns have you lived in?"

"Too many."

"How many schools?"

"Too many."

"How many girls?"

"None. Until now, that is."

He watched me and I watched him back, my insecurities sated for the time being. There had never been another. At least...

"What about vampires? Surely you've been with your own kind..."

"Never, Isabella. There is only you. And there will only ever be you."

His eyes burned into mine. My feet carried me across the room and onto my bed. I had no other choice, really.

Reaching up, placing a tentative hand on his cheek, I brought my lips to his. And he met them eagerly.

It began chaste. We pecked. We rubbed. We nuzzled.

But then there was heat. Fire.

Chaste wasn't enough.

I had the feeling that nothing would _ever_ be enough.

His cool tongue met my lips, running along the seam to my mouth, tasting me, stroking me. I opened in response, meeting his tongue with my own and reveling in the feeling of hot and cold, light and dark, man and woman. I moaned into his mouth, and he snapped into action, his arms snaking around my body, drawing me into him. I clawed at his chest, desperate to find purchase against his marble flesh, but his unyielding torso left me little to latch onto, so I settled for drawing fingers through his hair, teasing his scalp with my nails and earning an enticing growl from him in the process.

We stayed like that forever, tasting, exploring, learning. I felt consumed by him, alive, electrified. Nothing mattered by his mouth, his body, his existence. I got lost in him. It was when I went for my shirt that he backed off.

It's funny, really. Any other seventeen year old boy would have been thrilled to watch her girlfriend pull her shirt off for him. My seventeen year old by only let me get about halfway before he encircled my wrists with his elegant fingers, preventing me from any further progress.

I pouted. Like a toddler.

"No, Isabella. Not now. Not yet."

His tone was gentle, his eyes tender, but I couldn't stop the hurt from coming. I couldn't help it. My ego was bruised.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, lowering my shirt as a traitorous blush invaded my cheeks.

"Don't apologize for that, love. Don't apologize for anything. I wanted it, so badly. I want you."

"You do?"

"I want you more than I've ever wanted anything, Isabella. Believe me."

"Then, why can't we..."

"It's not appropriate at present. That's all. We've had a rough start of this. A terrible start, to be frank. And a lot was said last night, a lot said this morning. It's quite a bit to take in. I want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into before we move things any further. I want to be a gentleman."

I snorted. Gentleman my ass.

"Does that mean we can't kiss anymore?" I asked innocently, already building my case for a more physical relationship in my head as I crawled back across the bed towards him.

"Bella," Edward growled, circling me with his arms and drawing me into him, "I couldn't stop kissing you if I tried."


	15. AN

**A/N: So, I went back and tried re-reading _Eyes Turned Skyward_... and I couldn't. I made it halfway through chapter two. I attempted to add to _For There You Have Been_, and I couldn't do that either. The stories are boring me. I don't like plain, boring Bella Swan. I like sexy, badass Bella Swan. The Bella in these stories are none of those things. So I'm going to attempt a new story. Which sucks... cause I have three WIP just sitting on my account. **

**I'm not going to remove anything on the off chance that somebody actually wants to re-read anything, but I think it should be known that all previous works are on a permanent hiatus. **

**So... the new story. I have no idea what it will be about. And I'm not going to post until I have at least half of it written, since posting things as they come to me seems to be my downfall. I'll welcome any story ideas anyone has... if there's something you've been dying to read and would like to see me give it a shot, let me know. I prefer Vampward to Humanward, because a human Edward is a whiney, annoying one... at least Vampward has a reason to brood.**

**Anyway, that's it. Thank you so much to all of you who've followed along and reviewed. The support has meant a great deal and, even though it's been months since my last post, I've thought about you guys constantly.**

**Thanks again. Guess I'll see ya soon... :)**

**-BeccaLyse**


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